Duality
by Kim Hoppy
Summary: After being hit by a laser by a Jokerz, Ro finds herself traveling between worlds filled with different Zetas. But are they real, and how will she get back to her own Zee?
1. Lectures on Philosophy

**A/N :** This is something I _literally_ started five/six-ish years ago that I never finished. However, lucky for it, I _did_ make an outline. (This is exceptionally rare for me, as I tend to write by the tips of my fingers, as it were.) One of my resolutions – that will never be met – is to start to finish stories I start.

I'm also going to take this moment to apologize for some of the following chapters, which shall be very annoyingly short. I personally hate it when "chapters" are hardly a few paragraphs long, but I want the reader to experience the same jarring as Ro. And, since I'm posting it all at once, hopefully it will not be too annoying.

* * *

**Disclaimer**: _The Zeta Project _and all adjoining characters are copyright to the respected individuals and companies (WB, creators, etc), no disrespect was meant in the writing of this story, and no copyright infringement was intended. Any coincidence to any event, real or fictional, was unintentional.

* * *

**Duality**

By, Kim Hoppy

* * *

**  
**

**Wave-Particle Duality**: A fundamental concept of quantum theory, which states waves  
can behave like particles and particles can behave like waves.  
Light (electromagnetic radiation) can be thought of as either a wave or a particle,  
but _never as both at the same time_.

* * *

There were few things Zee took an active interest in. Correction: there were a few _normal_ things Zee took an interest in. Although he was always processing information at the speed of light, there were several things he truly enjoyed to watch and learn. Of course, what Zee found interesting was usually the direct opposite of what Ro thought the subject was, but the girl had to give him credit for trying. Snow globes, flowers, and glass miniature were fine for little old ladies in their rockers and blue-veined hands, but hardly things a former Infiltration Unit should be interested in. It was the ultimate irony, in effect. Yet Ro had slowly discovered that Zee actively—in his own non-interactive way—tried to discover things. On top of his list was, of course, humans. Humans were his little hobby, something he enjoyed to study and hypothesize, usually incorrectly, about. Of course, by studying humans, it didn't make the synthoid human, much in the same way that an entomologist doesn't suddenly become an ant or butterfly after years of patient and boring study. No matter how close the imitation or how deep the study, Zee was always going to be a synthoid, just like the scientist was never going to be the bug. He accepted that, but that didn't mean he didn't continue to study and learn about the vast variety of human cultures.

A passing interest had been religion, but Zee soon lost that interest due to the lack of concrete evidence and areas of grey, Ro thought. It wasn't as if he just stopped learning about it, no, but he stopped going to seminars and speeches because whomever he asked questions to could never give him satisfactory answers. And any answers he got were usually contradictory to some other information he had absorbed. She couldn't give him any good answers either, due to her own lack of understanding and knowledge of the religions. And so Zee had turned to quietly reading little articles here and there, disappointed that such an important field of human culture was so abstract.

A little time after Zee had started that hobby, Ro had asked him what he believed. She thought he surely must favor one system over the other, but Zee had surprised her by saying he believed in his own system. As to what that was, Ro was left in the dark, for Zee was as well.

"_And what system is that, Zee?"_

_His face was blank. "I haven't figured that out yet, Ro. But if would like, I can tell you when I do find out."_

She signed up for that appointment. Ro just had to hear what Zee would finally choose, because maybe then she could decide if what she believed was right as well. Whatever innocent Zee thought was right, it was bound to be better than hers.

Zee had currently taken up philosophy, so long as he didn't spout off any at her, Ro ordered. It wasn't quite along the lines of the _meaning of life_ or _why am I here_, for apparently Zee thought he knew the answers to those questions. Instead the synthoid had turned to pondering about life and what was beyond, not in a religious aspect, but in the Robert Frost method of _I chose the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference_. For some unfathomable reason Zee thought it remarkable that humans would pretend to think their lives would be so much different, so much better, if they had done that one little thing different. He understood little choices like going left or right would provide different outcomes, with one probably more enjoyable than the other, but it confused and almost amused him that humans could believe their lives would be so much different if they had, say, oatmeal for breakfast that one day, or the fact that their lives were filled with the _should-haves_ and _if_s and _what if I had done that?_ He didn't understand the dwelling on the past, and it intrigued him.

Ro thought it was boring as hell. All she did was dwell on the past. And she was on the silent opinion that Zee did dwell on the past, every time he failed to meet his own expectations. Surely he had to think "What if I had been faster?" or something along those lines. Self-doubt and guilt were not just human traits, but synthoid—well, at least Zee-traits as well. He was just starting to recognize it, maybe.

Anyway, Ro humored him along with him little eccentrics, let him have his fun. There wasn't any reason not to. In any case, Zee usually fell out actively pursuing knowledge from any human sub-culture once the basic knowledge was met and he couldn't find anyone to answer any of his questions. Eventually his toddler attention span would drift to more interesting areas, like clothes, music, and food, perhaps. And hey, Ro would welcome him there with open arms once he got to that high point of humanism. It was only a matter of time.

Of course, while on the motorcycle and en route to a talk about a current interest, Ro also had to be violently reminded that until Zee got to that point of refinement and progress of human civilization, his current interests were going to be dull, painful, and stupid. And that she was going to have to go along with him and sit through all the dull, painful, and stupid ideas someone with half a brain would never, ever sit through.

When was Zee going to get interested in clothes?

" . . . although _Matin's_ theory is hardly verifiable and is most definitely arguable, it does present a variety of interesting postulates and an infinite number of possibilities one may wish to explore . . ."

"Ro," Zee whispered, nudging his sleeping companion.

"Mh huh?" Ro mumbled rather loudly, getting a few shushes from around her. "What, Zee?" she asked rubbing her eyes.

He looked down at her, the concern evident but not visible on his face. "Do you want to leave, Ro?"

"What? _Noooo_ . . . ooooh, my god, was I _drooling_?!"

"Shh!"

"Yes," Zee said solemnly, watching as she rubbed her chin and then his arm where her head had been resting. "It will dry, Ro."

"I was _drooling_!"

The synthoid didn't understand her upset, still looking at her intently. "If you don't find this entertaining, we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep there if you're tired," he whispered.

"No, Zee, this is _totally_ entertaining," she said somewhat sarcastically. "_Nothing_ is more exciting that Martin's theory of basic parallel bars and mirrors."

"_Matin_, Ro," Zee corrected quietly. "And his theory is of—"

"Shh, Zee, people are trying to listen to Dr. Likes to Hear His Voice."

Zee looked at her for a moment longer, then looked ahead again as Dr. Ledonard continued his interpretation of _Matin_. His eyes drifted to the corners of his eyes when Ro slouched down. "Ro, are you sure . . ."

"_Yes_, Zee." She straightened up in her seat and tried to look studious. "You wanted to go to this, so I'm going to sit here and listen. You can even quiz me afterwards."

He appeared dubious and with some reluctance said, "Okay."

Once Ro saw that his attention was truly diverted from her and back to the boringest topic in the universe, she slouched back down and crossed her arms, going cross-eyed as she tried not to yawn again. Wasn't this thing _almost_ done? When she agreed to go with Zee to this lecture, Ro hadn't thought it was going to be so_long_ . . . and boring. Very _boring_. Her butt hurt a lot. Her neck had a strain. And they weren't even in the back of the pit! If they were going to leave, everyone would _see_ them.

" . . . _blah, blah, blah_ . . .," she breathed, not understanding the terminology that the PhD was using. What was wrong with little words? Little, _English_ words?

"Ro?" Zee asked, his hearing picking up her additional commentary and drawing his attention back at her.

"I was _commenting_ on the dual personalities," Ro said quickly, the only thing she actually remembered the doctor saying. "He said something about them."

"Yes. Almost forty-five minutes ago. He is now speaking of the possibility of transmutation of the interloping and cross realities in the terms of simple loops and physics, in which one should destroy the said field of _reality A_ with the addition of _reality B_ because the possible aversion to the foreign matter, yet strangely enough that even though the realities are crossed almost every moment, the probability of any reality becoming endangered is next to 0."

"So I'm slow," Ro hissed defensively.

"You are not slow, Ro," he said quietly, both in manner and in tone. "That was the point in which you had fallen asleep."

Ro glared at him and slouched further down. "Not that I'm bored, but how much longer?" She hoped that the whine hadn't fled into her voice.

"It will end in approximately 1 hour, 38 minutes, provided nothing distracts the doctor."

_I'm never getting out of here_, Ro moaned to herself, rolling her head back and staring at the ceiling. Even _that_ was more interesting than whatever the orator was going on about. It had_tiles_ you could _count_. Everyone understood counting, but not everyone understood _Matin_. And Ro was obviously one of those people. Perhaps Zee could explain it to her later. Wait, what was she thinking? There was no way she was going to sit through this junk _twice_.

Smacking her lips and wishing her mouth wasn't so dry, Ro rolled her head sideways. The people next to her, other than giving her a disapproving look and frown, said nothing and continued to stare ahead. All around her people in the packed pit auditorium were avidly listening to Dr. Ledonard. She could even see some people taking _notes_, of all things. Scrolls and scrolls of it on their pad screens, and it held Ro in sick fascination for a few moments as she tried to imagine even listening and comprehending to that much. There was no one her age, nor anyone younger, most obviously. Everyone was either rather old and smart looking, a college Ed taking notes for class (Ro briefly wondered if they were forced to come, as some looked to be having as much fun as her), or nerdy individuals with thick rimmed glasses shaking their heads and lips moving silently as if arguing. Ro frowned especially at them. They had better not ask questions at the end. Zee would want to sit through them, and probably ask his own questions.

Another thing about the audience was that they were dressed nice. Ro had assumed—very wrongly—that her faded jeans, squeaky shoes, and black microchip shirt would be okay to listen to some guy spew words, but her eyes had widened when they actually arrived. Everyone was in Sunday best or similar, or at least lacking in jeans and worn shoes. She stood out like a sore thumb, everyone noticed her. Zee, damn him and his wardrobe, blended in perfectly in all his Infiltration Unit glory. Ro had almost demanded that he holograph her a different wardrobe, but the thought of having to explain to him why stopped her. She was tough _Rosalie Rowan_; she bowed to no one. Things like people staring at her wardrobe did not embarrass her.

But, of course, being fifteen years old and a girl pointed their evidence the other way.

Ro turned her attention back to their PhD speaker as he started to show the inconsistency of variable dimensions of _reality A_ to_reality B_ with complex formulas and diagrams. In an effort to understand them, Ro pressed her lips and tilted her head as she tried to follow the arrows and numbers and letters. It made no sense to her, like Alphabet soup and noodles spread on a plate. Zee, on the other hand, appeared to fully understand.

She threw her head back again and slouched, eyes focusing on the ceiling and something she could understand. _One tile, two tile, three tile, four tile, five . . ._

* * *

"Please don't tell me you enjoyed that, Zee," Ro moaned when they finally trudged out amidst a throng of people. For once Zee apparently didn't have any questions he wished to give the PhD, and hence cause the poor man to decide on a different field lest more people like Zee turned up. Or he was being nice to her. Quite frankly, Ro didn't care as long as they were out of there.

Zee smiled at his young companion. "I found it very interesting, Ro, thank you for asking. What did you think?"

"It was very long," she said deadpan. "Too long."

"You did not have to come with me," Zee said simply, contrite that she found it less than pleasant. "You knew it was going to be long, although I'm sorry you didn't find it as interesting as I did."

They had started to walk into the dusking night, and Ro kicked a stone. "You made it sound interesting, Zee. _He_ totally slaughtered it."

"He_ slaughtered_—?"

"Expression, Zee."

"Ah. Yes, he did favor theorems and formulas over a far simpler or interactive method," he agreed after a moment of thought. "I should have known you would not have been interested for very long."

"Are you saying I have a short attention span?"

"Ro, you were merely one of three hundred seventy-two people that had fallen asleep at some point of the speech. I do not think your attention span is an issue on this subject," he said, not actually answering the question and staring straight ahead.

"I didn't see that many people sleeping," she said shrewdly, somewhat insulted.

"Because you were asleep."

Ro rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Are you hungry?"

"I could do with a burger," Ro agreed. "So tell me, what did you think of the theory?"

Zee took a while to process his answer, almost to the point where Ro wanted to retract the question. "It was very . . . human."

"So you don't believe it's true?"

"It is a theory of his philosophy, Ro. It might very well be true, although more likely it is . . . wishful thinking?" He pondered if that was the right word choice, then nodded absently.

"But do you believe it is?" she pressed.

He looked down at her. "I think . . . it would be nice if it was true, but . . ." He struggled over his words, trying to reason that even though it wasn't possible, if it was, how he would process it.

"You'd be upset you got this lot in life?" Ro tried. That's what she had gotten out of it, at least when Zee present his shorter, more Ro-friendly version. Dr. Ledonard's merely proved a case of cruel and unusual punishment and needed to be shot.

He shook his head. "I would not be upset, Ro."

_Liar_, she thought mentally with a smirk. "But . . ."

Zee looked at her with blank puzzlement. "But what, Ro?"

"Wouldn't you be just a _teeny_ bit jealous?" she asked, holding her thumb and forefinger apart by a small gap.

"Of what, Ro? Myself?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. Would you?"

"Yeah, I think so, Zee, if what ole _Matin_ said is even true. I mean, they say everyone is supposed to have a twin in the world, but I've never met mine, so that might not be true, and that theory's been around forever."

"Perhaps she has not been born yet," Zee suggested.

"What?"

"Perhaps your twin will be born when you are older."

She sighed, not bothering to say that the point of the idea was that the person was supposed to be the exact same age. "Maybe. Or maybe she's already really old and I'm actually her twin."

"Yes."

Ro paused into her step, cursing at what Zee had dragged her into. "We're reading too much into that saying, Zee."

"We are?"

"Yes, we are."

He appeared to give this thought, then said, "We were merely commenting on the unlikelihood that your twin would look _exactly_ like you in every respects."

"Exactly. Reading _way_ too much into it."

"Oh."

* * *

Ro leaned against the hotel wall, staring up into the sky. Light pollutions and other forms of haze blocked the stars in most of the cities they visited, an even this one didn't offer the view she had often seen in the country from the backseat of a car, but it was close. The stars were visible, at least, as much as they ever were, tiny pinpricks through indigo-black construction paper. She looked up at the odd patterns that were supposed to make men, lions, bears, and fish and only saw dots. It frustrated her.

Was that how Zee saw the world, like how she tried to see ancient pictures in the skies? In the old times were the pictures so obvious that even children could point of the heavenly portrayals and give their names? What was so obvious to her, did Zee only see it as a random smattering of dots with lines that made vague stick figures? It would clear up a lot, perhaps, make it so Ro could even forgive his naiveté and questions.

Her heel kicked the wall. No, perhaps not. That _was_ asking a lot.

The stars were pretty to look at. That didn't make them any less the enigma or any closer. Still distant and cold, surrounded in a vacuum of emptiness, isolated from everything. That was Zee in a mean, little nutshell. Zee, the star. Hmm . . . a nice, if sobering thought, if you remembered that probably half the stars in the sky were dead now, or black holes, sucking everything towards them, slowly streaming them out into a fine ribbon, down to the center like water down a drain, into a mass, crushing little ball of darkness . . . and perhaps even a tunnel to the other side. A black hole to a white hole, navigating, slicing the universe into one nice, easy detour. Breaking all the rules, making its own, doing whatever black holes did, not destroying, but giving the option to escape, if you have the strength, the power, the speed. If you could really survive in the world, the oppressing gravity, being stretched thin.

Such was life. Life was a black hole. You start out so bright, then feel yourself getting stretched, growing thin, things getting dark. If you were lucky, you broke out the other end. If not, you stayed smashed and were destroyed without malice.

"Okay, Rowan, no more philosophical speeches for you," she said with a small chuckle. Introspecting was Zee's job, one she _severely_ wanted to leave to him. Life was complicated enough, then to throw into being hunted by NSA and traveling with a renegade synthoid just sent it around the bend. If she were to start philosophizing regularly, Ro thought she might just scream.

Stars were just stars, distant observers to history. Nothing more, nothing less. Big balls of gas burning billions of miles away. Here or anywhere else in the universe or dream or whatever people wished to try and change their scope to, as star would _just be_ a star. It didn't pay to think otherwise. Sure, somewhere you could be super-rich, but right here, _right here_ you were as poor as dirt and starving. _Somewhere_ you might have a family and friends that care about you, but _right here_ you were fighting the dogs for your next meal, as it were.

It didn't matter what you were somewhere else, sometime else. All that mattered is what you were _here_. If you were rich, hey, you won the coin toss. If not, tough on you. Ro couldn't understand the point in believing that somewhere there was an anti-you, someone who was the direct opposite in every respect, because everything had to have an opposite to be in sync. Yin and Yang, black and white, up and down, in or out. That somewhere there was a Ro who had a wonderful family, all alive and caring, in a cool school getting ready to make something of her life, going out with normal guys, listening to the latest gossip, being normal.

If this Ro ever met that Ro, Ro hoped she'd be holding some sort of weapon. Nothing too deadly, of course. A bucket of water would be nice. Actually, it would have to be that way, if everything was opposite. Good, good.

Of course, Ro was never going to meet this lucky twin or whatever, because she didn't exist, and if she did, it was on a plane that Ro had no way of reaching. And that Ro was certainly very lucky in this respect.

Ro paused in the inspection of this impossible theory to the one she had just learned of today. _Matin_, from what she had been awake for, had supported none of this. His was even more radical, something you'd think would have been created during the Renaissance Age. But no, _Matin_ was a New Ager, died in his early twenties, gaining interest after someone posthumously published his theory. Zee had told her on the way up that _Matin_ actually wrote the paper as his Philosophy final for college. After hearing it, Ro bet he would have failed. No teacher in his or her right mind would pass off such frivolity, and _Matin_ had probably written the whole the night before it was due.

"What are you doing, Ro?"

She jumped at Zee stealthy intrusion and whirled to hit him in the arm. "Don't do that! You scared me!"

He appeared duly shamefaced. "I'm sorry, Ro. You had been gone for so long that I was wondering what you were doing."

"Just . . . looking at the stars, Zee," she said, not wishing to say she had been delving into the areas of twins and parallels. Not only was it something she truly didn't want to think of, but Zee would be interested and start his own crude hypothesizing.

"Ah." He looked up as well, quiet, probably seeing all of the constellations Ro had no chance of finding, save for the Big Dipper. Now that was a constellation. Strange, when you think about it; he could understand all of the archaic things and none of the new stuff, and she could understand all of the hip things and none of the old. Opposites in balance.

"So you were worried about me? Thought I was getting into trouble?"

He didn't look down. "Yes, I was worried. Trouble usually has a way of finding us."

"No, it finds _you_." She poked him in the chest stoutly. "I'm merely along for the ride."

At that Zee looked down. "And the 'ride' is very dangerous, Ro."

_Don't you dare tell me that you think I should stop following you and go somewhere safe, because I won't! Don't you even think about it, Zee!_ Ro thought mentally, but only accented her thoughts by glaring meaningfully. Whether or not Zee got the message, Ro didn't know for sure, but he didn't go into that line of conversation.

"The stars are lovely, though," he said conversationally, looking back up.

"Just dots in the sky, Zee," Ro said dismissively, leaning against him instead of the wall. Zee said things like that, conversation starters or things people say when there's nothing else to say. It was probably in his programming. Whether or not he actually believed it would be like asking a guy striking up a conversation with a beautiful woman if the weather really _was_ nice lately.

"Perhaps, but many humans like to look at them. Like you were just doing."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she grouched. "I can stand dealing with boring things."

"Yes, you can." He paused for a moment. "Thank you for behaving at the lecture. I know it must have been difficult for you," he said awkwardly, as if knowing that that wasn't the right way to broach the subject, but oblivious to how to correctly state his gratitude.

"No problem, Zee. Next time, though, we sit in the back."

"Why?"

"Better view," she supplied, lying slightly. _Or, the easier to leave without being noticed_.

"A better view? Surely sitting closer to the . . . "

Ro sighed. "_Zee_ . . ."

He smiled slightly, submitting. "Very well, Ro. Next time we shall sit in the very last row."

"Next to an aisle," she added quickly.

"Next to an aisle," he agreed.

Ro smiled like the cat that had gotten the cream, relaxing against Zee's frame. She felt his arms go around her waist to keep her upright. "Good."

"Yes. So that way you can leave without feeling embarrassed."

Again, Ro jumped in surprise and looked up at her companion. If she was the cat who had gotten the cream, it was Zee who was the one who had been given the key to the entire company.

"_No_, Zee, that's not why," she lied, feeling her cheeks flame.

Zee smiled down at her briefly, then looked back up at the stars. "Of course not, Ro. As you said, it is merely for a better view. It is like looking at stars: the further away the better."

She rested her arms on his, looking back up into the heavens. "Depends on the star, Zee."


	2. Paranoia

Perhaps the worst problem with being constantly on the run was the addiction to paranoia. You started out with just a tiny whiff, and before you knew it you were stopping for a quick puff at every corner. You ended up living off it, trying to survive, living on your nerves. It was a way of life, one you didn't bother to change because it helped you _survive_. Eight hours of sleep, although pleasant, was highly over-rated to the paranoid mind. Staying still for any length of time was a sacrilege. The simplicities of the life you held before were now rare gold. To go out in public, to shop in large stores, to just _hang out_, they were all but forgotten memories and longings now.

Of course, paranoia wasn't a twenty-four-hour craving for Ro, who tried not to dwell in such depressing areas for longer than a few hours and the thirty minutes before she fell asleep. Zee, on the other hand, had been programmed paranoid. Of course he didn't see it that way; he was just openly cautious and did complete area scans because it was practical and necessary. If Zee had been human, he wouldn't have been one of those worried about government conspiracies and aliens. No, he'd be worse. By walking outside, he was just daring a car to hit him, stepping into an alley just begging to get mugged. It was practical paranoia, but it covered all areas.

Unfortunately for the both of them, they were both high on the paranoid scale this morning. Police were rushing past them on the mag-ways, sirens and lights whirling, eyeing as they went by, sometimes stopping to ask questions. They weren't looking for NSA's most wanted, thankfully, but a truckload of Jokerz that had managed to escape due to the officials' own incompetence. And the price to pay was to now scour the countryside trying to find the outlaws, or, for some officers, to _not_ find the convicts.

So on the motorcycle it was tense and quiet affair. Normally Zee would have been trying (and failing miserably) to make small talk, following his programmed belief of ideal chitchat and conversation starters ever-so faithfully. Whatever came out of Zee's mouth was usually unnerving, but his silence was nerve-wracking, as currently all of his processes were going towards spying for the police, the Jokerz, and the NSA. Ro could feel that he was tense, well, tenser than usually, being as he was made out of titanium. The Jokerz were most likely armed by now, and Zee was no doubt preparing for when they sprung from the trees, shot them, and stole their bike, and of course the police would finally recognize them from their wanted bulletins, and NSA would suddenly, for no inexplicit reason, discover their current location. Such was the way Zee's mind worked: the ever-optimistic pessimist, a cynic in optimist's clothing, or, as the case may be, hologram.

Ro only hoped he wasn't speeding, so they won't get pulled over. She doubted if Zee even had an operator's permit.

Of course, she was not immune to the atmosphere's charms. The air was dark and heavy, threatening rain in the near future. Oh, how cliché. She could feel the electrical charges adding to her antsiness, dry mouth and wary.

"Zee, perhaps we should call it a night and stop."

"It is merely 16.38 hours, Ro, early afternoon," he said stoically, glancing over his shoulder briefly. "But I agree. We should stop and call it an afternoon."

"It's an expression, Zee."

"Of course it is. That is why it is illogical."

Ro ignored the note. "How far long until the next hotel?"

The synthoid stared straight ahead for a long while, trying to see past the earth's curve. "We shall arrive at suitable lodgings within the hour," he pronounced finally, giving the closest thing he would ever give to an estimate.

"Will that be before the rain?"

"That is uncertain, Ro."

"Zee,_will_ be get there before it starts raining?" she demanded a bit more forcefully. There were quite a few things worse than being on a motorcycle when it was raining, but currently Ro couldn't think of any.

Zee's mouth opened, then snapped shut with a metallic clang. He knew Ro wanted a definite answer. More correctly, she wanted _one_ definite answer. "I shall speed up," he said carefully, evasively. Even Infiltration Units knew better than to confront some situations.

"You do that, Zee."

* * *

Despite Zee being a synthoid and hence would be happy in a cardboard box, he was exceedingly picky when it came to choosing rest stops and motels. When he said "suitable", he meant it. It had to be suitable to fit his ideas of what humans, namely Ro, needed. And they were usually very precise in certain areas. More than once it had happened that he would drive past several perfectly fine stops, as far as Ro could tell, and finally stop at the most up-to-code building he could find. And sometimes this wasn't the most technologically advanced or state-of-the-art, but there was no budging him in some areas, and usually Ro was too tried to put up much of a fight anyway. Perhaps he had it planned that way. Of course, Zee wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and would settle for less than his expectations, but it was with extreme reluctance. He was probably the only synthoid who would demand mints or candies on the pillows because a) it was mentioned as such in his program, and b) because he knew Ro would enjoy them.

At the sight of the building, Ro knew this did not meet Zee's code, but counted her lucky stars and was not going to argue. He would rather have her in said cardboard box than out in the rain. She jumped off the bike and hopped from foot to foot trying to work off the nerves the trip had brought on, wringing her hands. It felt weird, now that they were stopped, to be stopping so early. Zee pressed for as much travel-time as he deemed Ro suitable for, sometimes even going as far to purchase a new vehicle, and it was only now that she was able to see the front of him that she could tell that he wanted to get off the road for awhile, away from the police. Even now he watched as a car went by, the occupants giving them long glances, slowing down almost imperceptibly except to the extreme paranoids.

"You go inside, Ro. It will be raining soon. I will tend to the bike and meet you at the front counter," he said lowly, still eyeing the landscape and retreating car.

"No problem, Zee," Ro answered, crossing her arms across her chest as if chilled. She gave a forced smile. "Wouldn't it be funny if Agent Bennett was in there?"

"No. And I do not see why he would be in this city. We are not following our usual modus operandi."

"Which is?"

"We are attending theological speeches. They won't not expect it."

"Tsk, tsk. Expect the unexpected. They should know that."

Zee raised his head. "Isn't it impossible to expect the unexpected, as it is unexpected?"

"Umm . . . I guess so."

"So then how could they expect us doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"The unexpected."

Ro grinned, enjoying spinning out the verbal circle. Zee supposedly had the patience of a rock, but she liked to see if the rock was sandstone or quartz. "Which is?"

"Going to theological speeches."

"And why are we doing that?"

"To broaden your basis of cultural and theological nature of the minds of the brilliant yet possibly flawed thinking of the way the world works."

"Broaden_ my_ world?" she questioned, looking at him skeptically.

"Yes."

"So we're going to all of this for _my_ benefit?"

"No."

"So we're going to them for _yours_."

"No."

Ro blinked, setting her arms akimbo. "So then why are we going? Cuz I really would like to know."

Zee looked at her innocently. "We are going for the both of us. I have read that it is important for humans to be involved in many activities and recreations, to be exposed to different ways of thinking and/or living. It keeps them happy and healthy."

"And your part in all this?"

He looked taken-back, or at least silent for a long pause. "I go for the same reasons."

Ro's eyes widened and she winced, wishing she could take back the last statement. "Zee, you're naturally healthy and . . . happy." She hoped that covered her mistake adequately, and by Zee's soft smile, it had. Sweet, trusting, innocent Zee. The poor synthoid.

"Happiness and health are, I've read, a frame of mind."

"And you're making sure your mind is on the right frame?" she asked sarcastically.

"In essence."

"Ahh." Ro waited for the day when Zee wouldn't look at everything so literally. "Okay."

"Ro, you had best get inside before it starts raining."

"All right, Zee. Don't take too long."

As she spoke, Ro could tell by the way Zee's eyes trailed behind her another vehicle passed. "I shall not be long, Ro. Don't worry."

She grinned and called over her shoulder. "Excuse me, traveling with you I can't help but worry."

"I experience the same situation constantly as well."

Ro glared at him for a moment, then sped up her walk when the thunder rolled. Perhaps it was her haste to get inside that was why when she burst into the hotel doors, the situation came as a complete shock to both parties. Sitting stock-still and wide-eyed at her arrival, visitors stared at her with shock mixed with disappointment, and the five misfit Jokerz holding them at uniquely shaped laser-point with astonishment from her explosive entrance. Ro froze, a deer in headlights, and smiled weakly.

Oh, god, she's rather have _Agent Bennett_ in here instead of this mob. Agent Bennett liked them, in an I'm-shooting-at-you-because-it's-my-job-nothing-personal way, and had Agent West to mess up everything. "_This_ isn't a Groundwire! Sorry, _my _mistake."

"Don't move!" A laser was suddenly pointed at her, and Ro raised her hands instinctively. "Come inside, now, girlie."

"Zee!" Ro hissed weakly under her breath, looking over her shoulder briefly and sidling over to stand next to a booth. Part of her wished he'd hurry up and rescue her, but the other part bitterly hoped he didn't come inside. Zee as the hostage portion of any hostage-situation never lasted long with conventional, if strangely shaped, weapons. He'd do more damage than any Jokerz, all unintentionally, which made it all the worse when his guilt-trips set in. He was only doing what he was originally designed to, and Zee knew he could never truly leave that fact. Only for moments in a planned attack could he ever oppose the programming, but almost never during the spur-of-the-moment. It was like not blinking when you sneeze.

"Keep a mark on the door! She probably has a friend," one yelled, tall and green-haired Joker to another. Stupid Gothem and its nutcases! At least Batman could come and get them!

Despite Zee's claim that his hearing was better than humans, he was just as surprised at the hold-up when he entered, slightly damp. Of course the lasers probably wouldn't hurt him, but it didn't make Ro any less nervous when one was pointed at him.

"Oh, you must be the criminals that escaped," he said conversationally, looking around and determining the weak points that he could exploit almost unconsciously, as well as checking the conditions of the hostages.

"Give us all your creds and sit down."

He tilted his head slightly. "You are aware your chance of escaping are very slim. Just this past five minutes, 23 seconds, three police vehicles drove by, and I believe at least one will stop here to make sure Ro and I are not aiding and abetting you."

"Shut up and give us your creds!"

Zee stared blankly. "That could be a problem."

"Zee!" Ro hissed, not wishing to see him anger their capturers any more than he already did with his assessment of the police situation. "Give them some creds."

"How much?"

"How much have you got?" a short, badly dressed one demanded, stalking over to wave the laser in Zee's face. The wardrobe put Ro in the mind that no sane clown would ever wear them, so of course Jokerz had to. Everyone except Ro was surprised at his lack of worry. The synthoid had apparently scanned the weapons and found that the weapons were going to cause little harm on his frame.

"I have an . . . I have only five hundred creds with me at the moment," he said, retracting his first truthful statement when Ro started to shake her head. He never understood telling people that he had an unlimited cred card was a bad idea. It had not gone so terribly when he told Ro, after all. "Is that satisfactory?"

Zee was not acting like the usual person being mugged, and Ro could tell it upset the Jokerz. They missed the fear, the power trip. "Hand it over . . . slowly." Ro almost had to laugh that their pathetic ability at trying to seem like the ones still in control, when it was obvious to her that Zee was the one holding the proverbial cards. Of course, she had the advantage of knowing the synthoid personally, but that no excuse for thinking Zee was helpless.

Almost with exaggerated slowness, as if to annoy them even more, (but of course he didn't work like that,) Zee pretended to duck his hand into his jacket, eyeing Ro briefly and then looking sideways to his first opponent. The thing about fighting Jokerz was that they worked by numbers and by surprise. If someone could upset them in either area, there was always a fighting chance. They didn't work as a team, but as individuals who only wanted a good time and some cheap laughs, but rarely were any of them willing to really fight to the last man, if by the last man it meant one Jokerz singular. Zee knew this and took advantage of the knowledge. Faster than any eye could follow, Zee whipped his arm in a full circle and knocked the laser out of the crook's hands, almost as quickly tossing it to another Joker to distract his fire. His arm extended to disarm another surprised escapee, and kicked a chair to trip up two upcoming Jokerz.

By now, several hostages had noticed their chance at escape and were quickly trying to rush out. Ro tried to stay back, hidden, worried about Zee and not in any frame of mind to leave him out of her supervision, as Zee continued to toy with the outlaws, like a cat with a mouse. He could have easily incapacitated them, but that would mean losing his hologram, and that would panic more of the people, so he settled for merely being where the Jokerz weren't throwing their punches.

Of course, Murphy had to go and muck up a fine system. One of the Jokerz had managed to get a fallen laser and raise it just as another came barreling into him from one of Zee's lighter punches, sending the weapon into the ultimate movie spiral, an uber-cliché if ever there was one. Zee actually paused when he calculated exactly where it was going to land, eyes growing wide and starting to rush over with cry of, "Ro! Watch out!" But Ro didn't have his speed or ability to remain calm and clear thinking in extreme situations, and could only stand dumbfounded as it twirled in slow motion, landing in front of her, the poor trigger sliding to fire a single burst. She barely had time to scream, to yell, "Zee!" before the ball of energy slammed into her body, sending her back with its force, knocking her head and elbow, and as her world enveloped into the brilliant golden-rose black.

Her vision darkened and Ro could feel herself falling gracefully and in slow motion. It wasn't apparently slow enough to have her life flash before her blind eyes a second time, reminding her of everything she had lived through. It was a disappointment, for in the back of her hazy mind Ro knew she wanted to remember some things. Dimly Ro wondered if this was how it felt to die, slowly, not all quick like she had always imaged. Slowly, falling backwards . . . falling with no one to catch her, not even her self-appointment protector, down into a swirling spiral of colors in sickening massacres of each other, with swiggles and spirals and again the disappointing total lack of life passing before her eyes -- a wrong cliché if ever there was one, apparently -- just falling and falling back and back, the Alice down the ever-slow rabbit hole of certain death . . . falling and falling . . . blackness . . . falling and spiraling . . .

. . . falling . . .

. . . deeper and deeper . . . dark . . . glowing warmth of pastels . . . darkness . . . deeper and deeper . . . deeper . . . on the count of three . . . falling . . . deeper . . . one . . . two . . . thr—


	3. Reality 1

Something slammed into her and Ro gasped in momentary pain, feeling as something defied gravity and hurled itself into her arms. Her eyes forced themselves open, watching the world spin around and pound, but settling onto a familiar set of baby blue wide eyes.

"Hi, Rwos!" a hand said as it waved in her face. Or perhaps not the hand, but the mouth.

Normally when faced with earth-shattering revelations, a person at least blinks to see if the world will suddenly to change back to the way it should be. Ro couldn't even do that when faced with what was staring up at her with absolute adoration in her arms. Her knees trembled and behind the head the background swam.

"Zee?" she whispered, mouth dry with that hint of pre-vomit everyone loathes.

The figure nodded as he hugged her tightly, and it was Zee. Only . . . younger. Zee was younger, and currently making it impossible for her to breath, which was a commodity Ro needed desperately right now. And a lie down, and perhaps a good stiff drink of some anti-hallucination pills laced in the liquid. Or at least a soundproof room where she could scream.

Of course none of this was offered to here, and Ro clutched at the child as if to hold herself up and to ground herself. This had to be a dream or something. Zee was not a little boy, not this really, really strong toddler that was making it impossible for Ro to continue her terrible habit of living. She tried to breathe deeply and calmly, but her breath came out in crazy gasps, hyperventilating.

Ro's eyes stared at the child. It looked just like Zee, except younger! The same raven hair, same style and everything, the same eyes, the same lips. Of course, the proportions were all wrong. And the whole fact that this Zee seemed to be human totally ruined the continuation of similarities. This was not her Zee, and Ro wanted to throw it out of her arms and get the monstrosity away from her.

As if to further tear away from the field of reality, a woman, hardly taller than Ro herself and brown-haired, entered. "Ro, I wish you'd try to arrive a bit earlier," she scolded good-naturedly. "I'm always afraid we're going to run late!"

There was no answer Ro could give, but apparently the woman didn't except one, standing at the base of the stair. "John! Ro's here! Hurry up or we'll be late! Honestly, that man, he could invent the alarm clock and still never use or understand it," the woman continued and she dug into the closet for jackets.

Ro moved away, clutching the Zee-imitation for dear life as if he was a teddy bear. The mockery squirmed unpleasantly and glared up at her, but made no true complaint. _What was going on? Who were these people?_

"Ro, dear, there's some creds on the counter if you would like to go to the park with Zee and get ice cream," the woman smiled, looking up at the girl briefly. Concern crossed over. "Are you feeling all right, Ro?"

And how do you answer that? Ro could only stare with a frightened rabbit look, but luckily there was no time for her to answer as John rushed down the stairs. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, Mary. Let's get going. Nice to see you, Rosalie," he said quickly, taking his coat away from his wife. His auburn hair was disheveled, clothes wrinkled, tie mis-knotted as if he didn't know how to put one on, and the shoes were on the wrong feet. "Rosalie, please put Zee in by seven, eight at the latest, after a bath. Sups in frig, oh, you know the routine."

Finally he looked up at her, then asked, "Are you all right, Rosalie? You're a mite pale."

They were both looking at her with that air of concern, and even the fake in her arms was worried. She had to say something. "Just . . . can't breathe," she answered in a somewhat choked whisper, grinning in what she hoped was a pleasant, light smile.

The arms around her chest quickly loosened. "Sworry."

"Are you sure you're not coming down with something?" the woman, Mary, asked, moving to touch her forehead. Ro ducked away and grinned widely, perhaps even madly.

"I'm fine," she accented, not wanting these people, if that's what they even were, touching her. "Fine. Fine. Zee's in bed by seven, after a bath, steal the creds and eat all the ice cream for myself, opps, wasn't supposed to say that part."

"If you're sure," Mary started, unconvinced, but John came to Ro's rescue.

"Oh, she's a grown-up . . . little person," he said, somewhat unsure of as to what to call her. "I'm sure Rosalie knows when she's not feeling well."

"Well, if you do get sick," Mary said in the tone that meant she was sure Ro going to, "the number's next to the phone. And we'll be back by ten."

"Okay! Hope you have fun tonight."

"Thank you, Rosalie. And you be good, Zee." John took his wife's arm, who wasn't as nearly convinced with Ro's performance. "Don't burn the house down."

"Yeah."

"Ro, don't feel as if you can't call us," Mary stated firmly. "And, young man, you are going to pick up those toys." The child ignored her, as if by not hearing the command it voided it. "Make sure he picks them up, Ro."

Her curiosity got the best of her. "What toys?"

"You'll see. Bye, sweetie."

"Buhs!" Although giving this farewell, the toddler was unconcerned with the adults' departure, clinging to Ro.

When the unknown adults left, Ro looked everywhere but at the demon still in her arms. The child, on the other hand, looked straight up at her pleasantly, then admired the view as well. They were quiet for several minutes after the vehicle left the drive, and Ro just _knew _she wasn't holding a normal toddler because not once did this one squirm.

"Are yous sick, Rwos?"

She couldn't help it and looked at the little face that was all Zee, cute instead of handsome. "Umm . . . maybe." Ro was currently of the option that she was dreaming. That was the only rational explanation, although this was a very, very realistic dream. Dreams were usually hazy and vague, and people never had feet. They floated, and everything was perfect. "I have a headache."

And it was true. Pounding at her temples was a constant throbbing in time with her pulse. She could feel it in each root of her hair, scaling down the back of her neck and her spine.

"I be quiets, then." He even brought a finger up in the classic shushing gesture.

"Be vewy, vewy quiet. I'm hunting wabbits," Ro giggled, unbalanced, suddenly reminded of the ancient cartoon no longer played on any stations. It had stopped being publicly played when she was five, now rarely only on the private stations that were too expensive for any orphanage or foster care to show.

"Huh? Wabbits?" He tilted his head in confusion. The boy looked at her vaguely, then said, "My bwanky is being washed." It was strange how such simple statements could be given as such an important pronouncement.

"Oh?"

He nodded solemnly, then looked around. "I hads an accident," he whispered, in Zee's shamefaced face.

Ro's eyes widened at the implications just set in. "Just now?!"

"No, last nights."

Oh, lordy, she was holding a thing that didn't even know how to go to the bathroom! "Well, you tell me when you have to go, okay, right way. Right way!" she repeated for emphasis, figuring if her Zee always understood the importance of the order when she repeated herself, then perhaps this one would too.

"Kays." He swung his sock-clad feet for amusement, then said, "Can we go gets it? Mummy said it should be done when you gots here."

"_Mummy" . . . What the heck was that all about? _"Umm, sure, why not? Where is it?" _Okay, just going to play along, I'm going to wake up, of course. This is all just a really weird, bad dream. All right, perhaps not bad, but certainly weird._

"Clothes' rooms," he informed her.

"And where's that?"

"I'll shows." With that, the fake Zee pushed himself out of her arms, and Ro had to struggle not to let the little creature fall painfully to the ground. He appeared unconcerned and toddled off quickly. Ro stood, staring at the little thing rushing away from her. For the first time, Ro noticed the child's wardrobe, grey shirt and black slacks, just like her Zee. The child, when he noticed Ro wasn't following him, turned. "Rwos?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she started, pulled out of the shock of the similarity her mind was obviously playing on her. Ro followed the guide, although it was quite a long wait when they came to the stairs, as little Zee had to butt-slide down the multitude of steps.

Once Zee had finished showing the safest way to get down from steps when you are only three-feet tall, he started towards the end of the hall. Stopping at the end of a closed door, he pointed at it and looked at Ro expectantly. It took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to open and hence rescue his snot-covered piece of cloth, and Ro took a deep breath and started to fill the figment of her imagination's wish.

Inside were ancient machines. No proper family would use these olden time machines. For heaven's sake, why would any sane person want two machines to clean clothes, a washer _and_ a dryer? It was simply ridiculous. The white machines looked at her in ultimate mockery of present-day technology and she had no wish to get closer.

The fake apparently had no such reservations about getting near them, and he quickly rushed past her legs and stood hopping excitedly in front of the machine, pointing. "In dere, in dere!" he cheered.

His voice was enough for her to snap out of it again. Carefully Ro started over. After a brief hesitation at even opening the machine, only forced on after an encouraging smile from the little Zee. Even in her dreams he could force her to do things. It didn't seem right or fair. She knelt down and cautiously opened the door, having heard tales of machines this old suddenly sprouting flames, and peered inside.

There was only a single piece of fabric and Ro reached in and pulled it out. It was still warm and smelled of a strange fabric softener, not mountain spring or lemony, but something with a bit of home. Yet it wasn't the scent that caused her to stare, but the blanket itself. It wasn't snot-covered or thread-bare with the bunnies and choo-choo trains, but deep violet velvet and black satin trim. It was just like Zee's holographic coat.

"Bwanky!"

Ro shot her head up and looked at her dream-Zee, or at least this dream's Zee and suddenly felt an insatiable urge. Before the child could stop her, she draped the blanket over his shoulder. It was perfect, a perfect cape or coat, and Zee grinned at her with the reserves of baby fat that made any child look cute as Ro sat back on her legs, staring at the similarities.

"I's a superheroes!" he exclaimed, raising his arms up into the air and rushing away to rescue puppies caught in long grass and kittens in trees, leaving Ro still stunned.

With a whimper, she dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, rubbing them savagely. This was no dream, it was too real, too . . . there was no other word to use except too _**real**_. No dream fed such senses into the mind, the smells and sights. And you never had any pain in dreams, but that's all Ro's head was currently feeling, especially the more she denied the situation, the existence. The throbbing pulsated in her gooey, grey brain-matter, tying it into knots.

"What is going on?" she hissed, trying to remember what even brought her to this dream, this mockery. But she couldn't. She remembered . . . she remembered waking up this morning in her bed . . . but that was _impossible_! She didn't have a bed! And there certainly wasn't any pink in her room if she did have it! No, this wasn't real! That wasn't her Zee! Her Zee was taller, and metal, and she couldn't remember, couldn't recall anymore through the pain and haze that her mind was feeding her.

Ro curled into a ball between the two machines, clutching her head. This wasn't real, it wasn't! Her and Zee, they had stopped at a motel! Yes, remember, Ro, remember . . . Jokerz . . . a laser . . .

Her mouth grew dry as hazy dreamy memories filled her mind, of getting shot and dying. But she couldn't have died! She was right here! Right here! She wasn't dead! Who would take care of Zee? The synthoidy one, not the toddler . . . _But not much difference there, is there, Rowan? You always made that comment, didn't you? "Zee has the attention-span of a toddler." "Watching Zee was like babysitting a child." _

But she didn't _mean_ it! Was this Hell, making her stupid mockery of Zee true? It wasn't fair to punish him like that, for something she had thought up as joke! It wasn't! Change him back, change him back!

"This isn't real, this isn't real, you're not dead, you're not dead!" she said under her breath, clutching her head as the throbbing grew worse. It didn't help her, and Ro forced herself into the small ball, trying to shrink away from the pain, but the source was from the inside, the constant hellish pain that was punishing her for whatever she had done in life to deserve it, trying to erase her mind and change it into that of a puny drone.

"I'm not dead!" she hissed savagely. "This isn't real, this isn't real!" The pain said otherwise, and her vision swam slightly from the tears.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispered, brushing back her bangs and shaking her head. Her head throbbed with a steady pulse under her hand, and Ro bit her lip as bile threatened to rise.

Unfortunately, the one she usually asked and figured out the answers for her was now toddler-sized and unable to give her any answer.

"Zee . . ." she whimpered, burying her head.

* * *

Zee walked down the halls, sniffing quietly to himself and clutching the blanket desperately, looking every which way. "Rwos?" he called out rather quietly, unable to get his voice higher than a whisper and without the slight tremor. "Rwos? Where ares you?"

The house was silent and suddenly very scary, with funny dancing shadows and hidden people with eyes staring out at him, and he whimpered, rushing into a small dash to leave the current room. Where was Ro? She wasn't supposed to leave, she wasn't! She couldn't leave him! She _couldn't_!

Perhaps she was playing hide-and-seek, and if she was, she had a _good_ hiding place! But she always told him when they were playing . . . no, Ro wasn't gone, she was hiding. She had to be hiding.

Even still, he sniffed and looked around the room. Everything seemed to tower over him, higher than ever, and Zee shrank back. He didn't like being alone. It was when you were alone that monsters came out of the walls and tried to hurt you, chase you, scare you. And Zee had a lot of monsters that liked to scare him.

They were everywhere. Tall, scary monsters haunted him at all times and places. The secret was to always have someone with you so the monsters couldn't attack. And Ro was his protector; she would never let the monsters attack him, she'd scare them all away.

Again he butt-slid down the steps down the lowest level. To his mind, there was no reason as to why his sitter would still be downstairs, as Ro never went down there before today, but it was all he had left to look. It took him a while to gain his momentum at the bottom step, and he stood up shakily. It was darker here, with shadows scarier with their spider hands reaching for him.

He was unclear, and unquestioning, how Ro had been appointed his protector and not, say, his fosters or blanket. Yet one day, or night, as the case actually was, with demons chasing him, she had suddenly appeared in his dreams and scared them all away, hugging him afterwards. She protected him from a terribly, terribly tall, mean green-eyed monster that was always trying to catch him and take him away and all its little followers.

The Smiths, though, did question Zee's infatuation with their young neighbor. They were only lucky Ro did not mind or comment on the attentions of a toddler who took to following her quietly around her own yard when he saw her about. They had spoken to a child therapist and had been informed that he probably had merely associated her to an old face from his past, a mother or sister perhaps. That he had probably latched on to a feature such as her blond hair and merely finished the features to make the neighbor girl, when he in effect only recognized a small similarity. No doubt he would grow out of it. He had been through a traumatic experience, after all, which would no doubt account for his "monsters." Just because he apparently didn't remember it didn't mean he didn't have it etched into his subconscious. Or so the therapist suggested.

Of course Zee didn't recognize all this hypothesizing. He only knew Ro protected him, in dreams and in real life. Some nights, though, Ro didn't appear, and those nights were the worst. He usually had accidents on those nights, a child-like maneuver to protect himself, perhaps. He never understood why she didn't always appear, why sometimes she let them try and take him away.

He padded on the cold floor, looking up at the closed doors. He was too little to even attempt opening them, so he settled for dashing his eyes back and forth and trying to appear as small as possible, tears trickling down.

When he finally reached the last door, open, he let out a huge sob of relief at the sight of his Ro curled up next to the machines. Without a thought he rushed himself towards her and squirmed into her lap, crying freely into her shirt.

Ro was shocked at the ball of sniffles and sobs that had launched it painfully against her chest on onto her lap, hugging her for dear life the second time today. Panic hit her, suddenly remembering all she had learned, and she pushed the child off her.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked.

He stumbled back and collapsed onto his rear, clear shock and pain written on his face, even betrayal. "Rwos?"

"You're not real!" Ro yelled, jumping up and pressing herself against the wall, fighting against the pain. "You're not real!" She pointed accusingly.

Zee looked up at her, suddenly even more scared. Why was Ro doing this? "Rwos?!" he wailed, trying to get closer.

"Stay away!"

Tears streamed down his face. "Rwos! Pwease!"

Ro tried to ignore the scene. "You're not really Zee! I want to go home! I want to get away from you!"

_No no nonononon__**NO!**_ Ro couldn't leave him, she couldn't, she couldn't! "NO!" he wailed, trying to launch himself towards her in an effort to keep her with him. "Don'ts go, Rwos!"

She dashed nimbly away, glaring at the little monster that wasn't real, and watched as Zee hit the machines hard and collapsed to the ground stunned. "Stay away from me," she said in a low menacing hiss. "I'm not falling for any of this!" She gripped her hair as her headache returned full force with its own reserve. "You're not real, none of this is real!"

Zee pushed himself up, crying openly now. "Rwos! Don't goes! Pweese?"

No humane person couldn't feel not feel guilty at this scene, a toddler that was just crying out to be held, but Ro wasn't going to bend. She was going to get out of here, back to _her_ Zee, no matter what! A crying ghost of her imagination wasn't going to stop her. "Shut up and go away!"

"I couldn'ts find you!" he wailed, well, more like whimpered, as it wasn't very loud, looking up with pleading blue, red-rimmed eyes.

"I don't want you to find me!" she screamed, trying to remain firm. This was wrong on so many levels, screaming at a crying child, a child who looked like Zee, and Ro knew it. The knowledge made her stomach flip.

It was like he had been slapped. "RWOS!" he wailed openly, collapsing into hysterics. "No, no, no!"

It was the combination of guilt and pain that made Ro collapse to her knees. "Go away! I want to wake up!" she said coldly, softly.

Zee had covered his ears and was shaking his head wildly as he himself curled into a little ball such as Ro had done earlier. "_No no no no __**no**_ You're nots Rwos! Yous a monster! Not real, not real, not reals! RWOS, help! Pwease, help!"

She stood shell-shocked at the words and emotion behind them, suddenly backing away as if to escape the scene. And suddenly Ro learned a startling, sickening revelation, that what she was doing here affected this place as well. And she had no right, _**no right**_ to scare any sort of imposter-Zee, especially one that seemed to be just as innocent as hers.

Awkwardly, guiltily, she started to crawl over. "Hey, hey, shh, shh, it's okay, I'm right here," she tried, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Zee flinched away from her, shrinking himself into a smaller ball and trying to dig through the machines.

"Go aways! Rwos!"

It was a mirror of her own breakdown, but even worse because she had caused this one. "I'm right here, Zee," she whispered.

He shook his head wildly, refusing to look up at her to confirm her words. In truth, he was scare to see what he was going to find. If it was a monster, then his Ro really was nice and liked him still, but if he saw Ro, then he knew an awful truth, that she hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.

"Monster!"

He was right to call her that. "No, no, Zee, the monster went away. I'm me, Ro," she cooed, still trying to get him to accept her touch.

Yes, yes, Ro had scared away that monster pretending to be Ro! Yes, yes! Cautiously he peeked out. "Rwos?" he whispered, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, it's me," she whispered back, giving a soft, forgiving smile. And suddenly the child launched himself again at her, crying freely again. Ro felt something wet on her lap and could suddenly acknowledge the smell of urine, and tried not to get sick as she patted his back awkwardly.

"Rwos," he sobbed.

"I'm right here, Zee," she whispered. _Yeah, I was right here for the past two hours, trying to prove that this wasn't real. Screaming at you to prove it wasn't real._ "Hey, I'm sorry, Zee," she whispered, unsurely trying to hug him. He dug deeper into her, sniffling. "Shh, shh, it's all right. I'm not going anywhere." _Except to where I actually belong. But I'm not going to yell at you again. You don't deserve it._

"Pwomise?"

"Would I lie to you?" Internally, Ro winced. In a sense, she was doing that to Zee. She had no intention of playing this mind game, and would leave him the second her real life come into view. "And see, there's no monsters."

"Uh huh," he sniffed, looking up at her with tear-stricken cheeks. It broke Ro's already wounded heart, as she had never actually seen her Zee cry, in reality didn't think he could and couldn't ever be prepared for any imitation doing such.

"No, there's not," she whispered, wiping his cheeks with the satin edge of the blanket. "And I'm sorry I left you alone, Zee." It was best not to mention the yelling. Let him think it was a monster, because that was what it had been. A monster that wasn't coming back, Ro swore.

There wasn't any accusation present on his young face, but he merely latched onto her tighter, sobs eventually subsiding into cry-cups. "I made an accidents," he whispered, still crying gently.

"It's okay, Zee, it's okay."

"Sworry."

"Shh. Shh, Zee," she whispered, carefully standing up with him in her arms and walking up the stairs. She looked around briefly for the bath and found it soon enough. She set the toddler on the toilet and filled it up with warm water, then started to strip the child (that thankfully wasn't like her Zee in all respects at the moment) and be glad that her own wardrobe had not been drenched.

He limply let her scoop him into the tub and wash him, clearly emotionally tired and ready to recuperate. And the warmth of the water only instilled the fact while soap bubbles danced over his skin and hair, washing away the urine scent and leaving soapy cleanness in their wake.

Ro made no words, too guilty to actually say anything. Instead, she grabbed the fluffiest towel and started to dry him gently, paying special mind to his face and cheeks, smiling warmly. He smiled back and welcomed himself, towel-wrapped and blanket-holding, into her arms.

Ro climbed the main stairs, duly searching for any room that hinted a toddler lived there. If Zee was curious about her actions, he was too sleepy to speak it. Finally she located to room (and understood the mention of cleaning of his toys) and quickly found some clean clothes, gently changing her charge into them. Again it was a grey shirt and black pants, but Ro had done it subconsciously, not on purpose. She scooped him back up into her arms and went over to a chair.

"All better?" she whispered. Zee nodded sleepily.

"How about we both take a little nap."

"No nap," he muttered sullenly, wiping his nose.

"Why not? I'm tired." And she was, a bit, and she yawned to show her willingness to for a few z's. "You can stay awake and I'll sleep," she said quietly, resting back.

Zee appeared off-centered that Ro wanted a nap and decided the best option was to not say anything and curl up against her. His eyes were already drooping and Ro rubbed his back in an effort to get him to fall asleep faster.

"I likes you, Rwos," he murmured after a long while, just before his breathing evened.

She sat quietly in the room holding the child, a little Zee, and tried to figure out her dilemma. Her actions earlier made her sick now, and Ro could feel her stomach readily agreeing to show how sick she was. Her head was lightly throbbing again, and Ro couldn't think too long about how to get back home. Instead, she looked down at her arms at the slumbering sweetie. He was just like her Zee, all toddler and cute, innocent and naïve. Her little Zee, perhaps even a truer form.

Her fingers ran through his damp hair. Real hair, deep breathes, warm skin, rosy cheeks, blue eyes, a real, little Zee. This world had a few benefits, but it was wrong. So terribly wrong.

Her head twinged and Ro swallowed deeply, trying to keep the bile down. She had to get back, no matter what, but not by hurting this precious little angel. She would never hurt _her_ Zee, and she wasn't going to hurt this one either. Ro sighed and closed her eyes.

"And I like you too," she whispered, making comforting circles on his back. "Both of you."

And suddenly, she fell backwards.


	4. Reality 2

Gasping, Ro looked over her shoulder and ran, pounding the ground under her feet quickly. It took her a grand total of five steps before her mind started questioning what she was doing and her momentum slowed enough for her to stop. Where . . . where was she? Just two seconds ago she was . . . she had been holding a sleepy Zee in a messy _bedroom_, and now she was running down a street for no logical reason or explanation.

Down the road and around the corner Ro could hear a brief burst of laser fire. Oh, so there was the reason she was running. "Rowan, you just know those lasers are for you, don't you," she muttered. "Why _else _would you have been running?" Of course, she didn't just start running again, opting for standing there curiously and waiting for the holders of the weapons, as this made no sense as to why she was here.

Of course, when the NSA hovercraft started to come into sight, Ro's habit of running away kicked in, and she started to run a great deal quicker than what she had been doing when she popped in. Messed-up dream or not, there was no way she was ever going to get caught by the NSA. Suddenly something yanked her arm and pulled her into an alley, a hand clamping down over her mouth to silence her instinctive scream. Shock and fear attacked, and Ro tried to escape from her captor as he held tighter. She bucked her legs and tried to slam down on a foot, elbow a gut, something, twisting to escape. And suddenly she saw her capture and froze in amazement.

"Shh," Zee hissed angrily, bringing a finger up. "Damn, it's me, Ro! You trying to break my foot?"

As the hand drew away from her mouth, Ro could only let her mouth hand uselessly and stare in shock. Where was her little Zee? She made a strange face and fish-gaped, "Huh?"

A ring of loud fire caused her to jump and Zee wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer protectively. Her mind could work past the circumstances to dwell on the fact, wincing as the bullets sounded. She had been running out there not five seconds earlier, and if Zee hadn't grabbed her when he did, she could have . . . her fingers dug into the Zee's jacket cloth.

"Don't worry," he whispered soothingly, glancing down at her briefly.

"Don't worry!" she hissed back in a pitiful squeak. "They're firing at us!" They weren't firing laser blasts, like she had heard, but actual projectiles, and she tried to shrink into Zee as bits of mortar and stone exploded. Such things had been outlawed for the longest time except for the most extreme cases, for death on sight. The NSA had never hunted for them with such weapons. _Oh, god, oh god, oh, god_, she thought, hyperventilating.

"And they're very close," he agreed quietly, staring at the alley opening.

"That is so _not_ reassuring!" She gave a frightened yelp at blasts appeared right outside her line of sight, and Zee's arm wrapped tighter around of her.

"It's okay, Ro," he whispered. "I think they're going to miss us."

"Really?"

"Shh."

Ro looked up at him as he watched the effects, and then Ro dug her fingers harder. And suddenly blinked, looking down at the deep violet fabric, velvet, water-stained and weatherworn. It was real fabric, real. She was hugging cloth, not figments of light and a metal arm. Actual fabric.

She was still hyperventilating, but deeper and not in the mad panic like most hyperventilating was.

"They're leaving." Of course they were, after scaring the general population with their bullets, gliding away quickly in the hovercraft. His grip on her waist loosened and Ro could hear him breath deeply, as if letting go of some deep burden. "Poor West, I bet Bennett's going to kill him for accidentally knocking_that_ weapons array."

Ro gave sputtered, feeble laugh. "That's West."

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned so she could face him. Ro didn't put forth any struggle, concentrating on her breathing and not fainting from the blood pounding in her head and shock. She had just gotten used to the whole toddler idea, and it never really occurred to her that the toddler Zee was also human, but _this_ Zee . . . this Zee didn't have any unusual traits that deflected this fact.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concerned. Oh, god, Ro thought she could cry, actually _seeing_ the concern on his face, the world of emotions her Zee never showed. They were there for the reading. His eyes scanned her over. "I could have sworn I saw you get sprayed by the mortar."

"Nope. I'm fine." _Although I might faint soon._ "Fine and dandy, that's me."

Zee grinned at her, twitching his nose cutely, then shook his head. "Why do I let you follow me, Ro?" he asked softly, holding her cheek.

Ro was struggling to remain thinking, feeling heat from his hand radiating into her skin. He wasn't metallic-cold, but blood-warm . . ."Because if you didn't, you'd get your head blown off five seconds later?"

"Hardly. If anything happened to you . . ."

Now that was her Zee, and she snapped her head back. "Don't you dare pull that one me! I choose to come along, so don't you dare tell me to go away!"

"Ro, I don't even think I could if I even wanted to." And before Ro comment that he couldn't, because that would mean surviving her wrath, he kissed her. Ro froze under the attack. Wait, attack wasn't even the right word to use, because it wasn't an attack, more of a meeting. A soft, hungry meeting that didn't even last long enough (although it was possible that it would never have been long enough) for Ro to regain her senses and kiss back.

Zee pulled back and turned his head quickly, unnoticing of Ro's humorously dumb, shocked expression and possible chance of buying news networks to proclaim the kiss. "We have to get out of the open."

Ro ignored his words, pointing a shaking finger. ". . . Y-y-y-you . . ."

"Come on." He gripped her wrist and tried to move her, but Ro wouldn't budge.

" . . you-ooo-ou kissssssed meee . . . you-ooo're human . . . you kissed me . . ."

"Ro, we don't have time for your games. Break down later." He pulled her wrist again.

"You kissed me!" she hissed.

"Come on," he ordered with a hard yank, and it was enough to cause her to stumble from the abrupt change and into swirling madness. Zee led her through back alleys blindly, but never once did they end up in a dead end. She wasn't really registering any of that though, still focused on that one little happenstance.

"You_** KISSED**_ me?!"

He glanced over his shoulder at her briefly, then rolled his eyes as he pulled her into the sunlight street and through milling mobs of people. "Ro, that's enough. Quiet down and don't make a scene."

"YOU KISSED _**ME**_!"

Ro barely even noticed that Zee had sped up their escape or that everyone within hearing distance was giving them funny looks. All she noticed was that Zee blushed prettily.

"You're _blushing_?! _You kissed me_!"

* * *

By nightfall in a warehouse that they had found, Ro had transcended from that world of screaming hysterics into the cotton dwellings of dull shock and disbelief. Zee, after starting a small electric fire, had disappeared to get food, ordering her to stay still. Ro was quite positive he thought she had knocked her head or something given the way she had carried on over that monumental kiss and, if she hadn't been in shock, she probably would have knocked him senseless (and it would have worked, too, for once!) for the treatment. She rammed her heel of her hand against her forehead, pounding out a steady beat that matched her racing heart.

Zee thought she was nuts, but of course he wasn't wrong. This was the only obvious answer. She was nuts. There was no way Zee would ever kiss her—_and of course there was no way he could even be human, can't forget that_. That _was_ the main issue after all. Her head throbbed over the heavy thoughts, stupid headache. She must have knocked her head good sometime ago, and that would explain the whole messed up world she was living in.

A hand gripped her wrist gently, ceasing the abuse on herself, and Ro looked up to see Zee squatting next to her, concern and mild amusement twisting over his face, but not pity. Smart man. She couldn't have taken that from him. "Stop that," he ordered quietly, then reached into his pockets. "Here, dinner fit for a queen."

He held out a burger and Ro laughed spontaneously, although it was certainly off and not quite in mirth. "Lucky queen."

"It's your favorite. And some cherry-coke-cola for a refreshment."

"Stop treating me like a baby unless you want to get kicked you guess where," Ro growled.

Zee put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, going back to tend to the electrical fire. "All right, only because I'm not looking for that feeling again anytime soon."

Ro gave a choked chuckled. Sounds like something she would have done before.

"I don't find it nearly as funny," he said deadpan. "You all right, though, Ro?"

"You kissed me, you know."

"Would you drop that, please. You caused enough embarrassment on the street. I'm surprised Bennett didn't hear you, the way you cared on."

"I wasn't embarrassed. You were. You _kissed_ me."

"Would you drop it, please?" he repeated.

Ro shook her head, juggling her burger between her hands. "No. You kissed me. Why?"

Zee sat down and crossed his legs, sighing and probably silently wondering to any listening deities what he ever did to deserve this brought onto him, then wishing they wouldn't answer. Even still, he smiled good-naturedly. "Ro, I think your knock on the head gave you amnesia."

"No. I distinctly remember you kissing me. And why are you human? And why did you kiss me, because I know you kissed me."

He ran a hand though his hair, shaking his head. "Ro, why now?"

She blinked and asked curiously, "Why what? Why did you kiss me, I don't know, because only you can answer that one. But I'd like to know."

Zee chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall. "No, Ro. Why _now_ are you making such a big deal about me kissing you? You never complained before."

Ro had some perfect zinger ready to respond to that, but her brain froze after the implications set of the comment set in. She was quiet for what seemed to her to be a very, very long time, but it could have been only a second. Zee wore a comfortable smirk, although it really wasn't a _smirk_, per se. It was like a very knowing and accepting smile, except sort of bordering on smirk's definition. Ro didn't even think Zee could smile a proper smirk, whether he was human, synthoid, or other.

" . . . you never kissed me before?" she said dumbly.

"Really?" There wasn't so much shock in his tone and manner as there was amusement. "Ro, you must have knocked your head _really_ hard if you don't remember anything about that."

"Wha-_huh_?!" Ro held her head. He kissed her _more_ than once? Her eyes narrowed at him. "Who are you?" she demanded quietly.

"You know who I am, Ro," Zee said calmly.

"No, I don't, see," she stated somewhat loudly. "_My_ Zee would never have kissed me. I don't even think he could process the idea in him thick titanium skull. And . . . he won't have kissed me, and we'd be spending the night in a hotel, courteous of his wonderful unlimited cred-card. And he won't have kiss me."

Zee whistled. "Unlimited cred-card, huh? Nice, I wish I did have one of those. And spending the night in a hotel? Ro, what_are_ you thinking?" His eye brows waggled teasingly, but Ro could only stare in shock. What the hell was he suggesting? _No . . ._ He wouldn't! Righteous, sweet, innocent, dense Zee would _never_ ever even think that!

"Don't you dare think that! You kissed me!"

He raised his hands and shook them in her direction for a moment, then smacked them on his knees as he asked, "Why can't you work past that, Ro? Why?" He sounded like bad therapist.

"Well, why don't you tell me how? You kissed me, after all."

"If you even say that once more, it's never happening again," he warned, although still smiling, easy-going. "I promise you that."

Ro had opened her mouth to make another comment, it most likely including the common denominator that had been present in all her other statements to finish it off, but she snapped it closed at Zee's words. After a careful reworking of her statement, she asked, "So who are you, Zee?"

"Who do you think I am, Ro?"

"Not yourself, that's for sure," she muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?"

He didn't have his super-hearing. He was human, he kissed her, and he couldn't hear right. Ro sat up straighter and brushed back her hair. This certainly wasn't her Zee. Three wrongs don't make a right, after all. "All right, who you actually are is this, Zee. You are the government's Infiltration Unit Zeta, but you ran because you didn't like the work. So Agent Bennett's been chasing after you so he can erase your programming, because he thinks terrorists reprogrammed you, while we have been trying to find your creator, Dr. Selig, who can vouch that you really haven't been reprogrammed and really don't want to kill anymore. And you like the _dumbest_ things, smelling roses, snow globes, and the such, have the worst sense of humor, and you don't let me squish cockroaches." She shuddered and glared at his impassive face.

"And I have an unlimited cred-card," he added.

"And apparently _you_ can't let go of that fact."

Zee scratched his head before he answered. "Gosh, Ro, there's only one thing to say to all that. You _really_ bumped your head."

Ro jumped up and pointed accusingly. "Not funny! It's not my fault that you're all messed up and nothing's right! Not my fault and my head hurts really bad, so I don't need to take crap from a fake Zee when the real one is so much better!"

"Now, Ro! I didn't mean it like that," Zee said quickly, jumping up and rushing over to him. Ro waved her hands and fended him off.

"Don't you dare look at me with that face! That's Zee's kicked-puppy face, not yours!"

He looked at her, perplexed.

"And don't use that face either!"

It was with great and obvious effort that Zee tried to put a blank mask on. "Ro, R—"

"Don't look at me like that! You're not Zee and you can't wear that blank look! For god's sake, you kissed me! My first clue that you are _so_ not Zee, so stay away from me!"

Zee barely held back a frustrated yell. "Ro! Listen to me! I am Zee! Yes, I worked for the government, and yes, in infiltration. Where you got that word, I don't know, because you never used it before, as the common word is _spy_. And all right, I killed people and did a lot of stuff I'm not proud of."

Ro backed away as he came closer. "You're not a synthoid! You're not Zee!" Her foot stomped childishly.

"Ro," he pleaded, not advancing as it appeared to frighten his friend even more. "Ro!"

"Why is Agent Bennett even hunting you if he can't reprogram you, huh?" she ranted. "I mean, can this sick, deluded world be any more wrong! You're not real!"

"Don't you dare feed me the crap!" Zee roared, face beet-red, at the end of his tether. Ro had never seen Zee angry in such a way, just as she had never seen him cry, and she fell backwards on her butt and stared up at the towering, fiery pillar that was almost a monster, but her friend, but not. Was this how his victims felt before he cut them down? Oh, god, oh, god, she had never been truly on the receiving end of Zee's ability, when he knew she was his friend, and it scared her beyond belief.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm not real, I'm not human!" Zee continued, a fury unleashed and unable to see the effect he was having on Ro. She had crossed a line in him and betrayal rang on his face, eyes bright. "The government fed me that crap for years, and I'm not going to take it from you, Ro! Never from you!"

The only thing Ro could even process doing was backing away. This wasn't her Zee, this wasn't her Zee, this wasn't her Zee! Her Zee would never do this to her, scare her like this!

His hair and eyes were wild. "You never cared that I was a damn clone before, so don't you dare start that now! Don't you dare, otherwise I'm going to do something both of us are going to regret! Don't you dare!"

" . . . A c-c-c-clone?" Ro stuttered, trying to comprehend what was going on through a pounding headache and trembling fear. Cloning had been illegal for years, save for cloning new organs, and even that had its opposers, but cloning humans was out of the world. Super-humans, that's what everyone feared.

"Don't you dare say it," he hissed savagely, backing away and shaking his head. "Don't you even think _I'm_ not real, not a person. You just watch you mouth, Rowan, otherwise I'll . . . I'll do something. I will." He turned stiffly and stalked through the darkness to the other side of the building, and Ro winced when she heard something get hit savagely, and then a sort of sobbing snarl.

She sat sprawled on the ground, trying to grip the shreds of what she knew. This was all wrong, this was all wrong, but . . . but . . . this was . . . this was . . . something, something that had no word to describe it fully, 100. _Weird_ was working, but it forgot to describe the wrongness. Perhaps _mind numbing_, except her head was anything other than numb, a searing pain at the moment. Strange, but also familiar.

Finally, Ro settled with _this was so Zee_, as Zee was always dragging her into weird situations that had no actual word to describe them. She didn't want to go over to that thing. She didn't call him a thing because he was a clone, but because he wasn't her Zee. But she had to go over there, because, because it wasn't right. Anything that looked like Zee Ro had to help. If there was a rabid pit bull that looked like Zee, Ro would probably try to help it, even if it did attempt to rip off her arm or kill her. After all, that's all traveling with the real Zee had ever done, try to get her killed. The pit bull would just be a bit more straightforward, that's all, and probably actually mean it.

Well, at the rate this was going, if it was actually a rapid-pit-bull-Zee . . .

Carefully she stood up, wringing her hands and listening for any sounds, but where the Zee had gone it was quiet, very quiet. Ro shuddered. If this Zee was anything like her Zee, he was probably dwelling on his private version of my-lot-in-life-sucks-but-I-deal-because-it's-what-I-deserve-since-I'm-a-synthoid, or, considering the circumstances, -clone. Ro hated those melancholy, accepting moods Zee was subjected to. He didn't deserve them.

Like a deer she started over and Ro squinted in the darkness. It was getting colder as she left the fire, somewhere Zee always went, out in the cold, away from the warmth, like he didn't deserve warmth. She was going to beat that idea out of his head, she promised. Zee deserved a lot, less than he would ever get. It was life, totally unfair.

Zee was leaning against a box, looking down and holding his head with his hand. Ro was just suddenly struck that she wanted to know about this Zee, the mirrors that were true to hers, beyond the wardrobe. Had she destroyed something here? Not that this was real, but had she? Had she ruined this Zee to her?

She stood awkwardly for a moment, then asked, "Do you like smelling roses?"

He snorted and asked in a dead voice wearily, "What?"

"Do you like stopping to smell the roses?"

He sighed and ran the hand through his hair, then shrugged. "I guess." He didn't turn to face her, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets. "They smell nice. I never got to before . . . before I met you, you know. Didn't get to do a lot."

"Guess not," she agreed, thinking about the government in general, and if they had an illegal clone, what was probably even less likely to happen. "Snow globes?"

Zee didn't answer her, standing still and breathing deeply. Ro could hear it even from here.

"Zee?"

"They're pretty little worlds," he finally said quietly. "Nothing's ever wrong in them, you notice? Nothing can touch or hurt them, and the snow just flutters down and makes it all tranquil and pretty."

"Oh." Was that why her Zee liked snow globes? Oh, she was going to have a serious talk with him if it was, as soon as she figured out how to get to her Zee.

"Of course, then some idiot breaks the glass and everything's ruined," Zee continued dully, as if to regain something he felt he lost. "And you cut yourself on the glass and blood's everywhere, floor, snow, figures, everything. It always ends in blood."

Ro's heart tore. Her Zee would never think to add, or even _think_, that. He could never comprehend breaking the domes. "Zee . . .," she started, reaching out a hand to place it on his shoulder, but Zee moved in such a way that clearly said he didn't want her touching him, like he didn't deserve it.

"Just go away, Ro. Let me think."

"Now that's dangerous, letting you think all by yourself," Ro stated, touching his arm and moving to his side to look up at the stars. "You never know what's going on in your mind, what you could possibly be getting wrong in the most complex ways."

"That's not funny, Ro," he said deadpan.

"That's because it's true. The truth is never funny, Zee." She banged her heels. "It always hurts."

"Not always," he countered idealistically, turning his head to look at her.

"Tell me once when it doesn't, ever, in no way whatsoever."

Zee was quiet, and he looked back up into the sky. Ro smirked, although unhappily.

"Told you."

"Just because I can't think of anything doesn't mean there's nothing." He paused. "If I _did_ have an unlimited cred-card, that wouldn't hurt."

"But you don't, apparently."

"But if I did."

"Still not nice. That's how you got me to follow you around, that cred-card."

Zee gave a small chuckle. "I don't think so, Ro. You aren't _that_ materialistic. That'd just be your excuse."

"For what?"

"For your real reason for following me," he said simply.

Ro grinned, crossing her arms. "And what is the real reason then?"

"Because you like me. You think I'm hot." She burst into giggles, unable to help herself. Zee, even a clone Zee, saying the word "hot" outside of its literal meaning was just too ludicrous not to laugh. Of course, her current companion didn't seem to find it nearly so humorous and scowled at her. "What?"

She tried to cover her mouth and stop, but she kept replaying the words and it just refueled the humor she found. "You keep telling yourself that, Zee. 'You think I'm hot!'" she said, imitating him while in a mocking manly stance, then collapsing into even more laughs, tears streaming down her face.

"You can stop now," he said darkly, but his lips were twitching as he tried to not smile at her mockery. "Anytime."

"How about next Tuesday?"

Zee glared at her, then broke into a beaming smile, rushing over and scooping her up, spinning he in a circle. "Why can't I ever stay mad at you?" he growled playfully.

"Because that would involve you being evil, which you're not. Not even an incey, wincey, teeny, weensy bit," she squeaked, holding up her fingers not even the smidgen apart. Zee smiled at her as he set her down, then took her hand and kissed it, locking eyes with her. Ro bit her lip as she watched, and he blushed under her gaze. She felt her own cheeks alit in a chain reaction.

"Kiss me."

He blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. I said kiss me."

Zee toyed with her hair. "You really should work past that point."

She banged his hand away, and he pulled the lock teasingly before the hand dropped away onto her hip. "Shut up and _kiss me_."

"You have to say please."

Ro glared at him and, with supreme force of effort, said, "Please, Zee, kiss me."

He blinked, this time shocked. "You said please. You must have really knocked your head," he said softly, clearly, truthfully amazed.

"Zee?" Ro pouted, glaring still. "If I have to say it one more time . . ."

With a small chuckle, Zee nodded. "I'm gonna get kneed, right?"

"You'll find out if you keep making me wait."

He grinned and then slowly leaned in, and Ro closed her eyes . . .


	5. Reality 3

The change in the air was immediate. It was no longer cold, but at that temperature where you can't comment on it being too hot or too cold because it was neither, the temperature of compromise. Ro blinked, and instead of staring into Zee's face—or, more aptly, given the circumstances that were happening, his eyes or even nose—she found herself staring at a mantel with less than tasteful knickknacks and a vase of flowers set upon it.

"If that's what you really want, Ro, I'll call your social worker and you can go somewhere else."

Her eyes widened and Ro whirled, finding herself looking at a sad Zee. Inhuman rage coursed through her. "No, no, no!" she screamed stomping her feet childishly. "It's not fair!"

Zee blinked at her, startled and stepping back. "What's wrong, Ro? I thought you just said . . ."

She ignored him, clenching her fists. She was _this_ close to getting kissed by Zee! It wasn't _fair!_ "No stupid, idiot! How could you? Argh! No! No!"

"Rosalie, stop it!" Zee said, trying to be authoritative but failing completely and coming off only as pleading.

"Shut up! It's not fair!" Ro gripped her hair and turned her back towards him. "Grrr!"

"What's not fair?"

Ro looked over her shoulder at him and glared. "Just go away," she hissed, stomping her foot. "If I never see you again it'll be too soon!"

Zee blinked at her, hurt, then nodded quietly. "All right, Ro. I'll just," he shrugged lamely, hopelessly, "go make the call."

"You do that." She crossed her arms and smacked herself on the couch, swearing oaths and curses at whatever made her leave a second before getting kissed by Zee, even a fake one. Ro could settle for a fake. She wouldn't believe it, of course, but she'd settle.

It took her a few minutes of deep breathing exercises to calm down enough to think straight. What twisted version of her life was this one? Ro looked around and saw a living room with light tastes and hardly any style, as if no one really lived in the room. Bah! Ro lifted up her feet and placed them on the coffee table, staring at the shoes. Jeez, what a cheap brand. Fashionable, but cheap.

"I would never wear these shoes," she swore with a snarl, still smarting slightly over the lost kiss but working past it, slowly. Whatever was going on, whoever was causing this, was going to die, pure and simple.

Ro laid back her head on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, biting her lip and crossing her eyes. _All right, what's going on now_? she wondered briefly. None of this made any sense, and none of it could be real. Impossible.

And where the heck did that fake Zee go? How dare he leave her? Ro slammed her feet down and stood up, stalking over to follow Zee wherever he had went. And how the heck would Zee be messed up this time, huh? Ro really didn't want to actually know, but morbidly had to find out.

She found him quickly enough in the next room next to the phone, speaking quietly to a woman on the other end. He seemed upset in both meanings of the word, sad and angry.

"Listen, Ms. Drewon, I don't think Ro should stay here anymore," he snapped bitterly. "She's already admitted she hates me."

"Mr. Smith, she's just acting out like a typical teenage girl would when offered stability and rules. You have to give it time."

Zee gave a harsh laugh. "She's been here over three months, Ms. Drewon. How much more time would you recommend? A few years?" He sighed and regained his equilibrium. "Ms. Drewon, I don't think I can continue to handle Ro and her best interests, as much as I hate to admit it. Just five minutes ago we had an argument about where I put the glasses away!"

"Ro is a very out-spoken girl, Mr. Smith. We all know that."

"So out-spoken she said that the only reason she hasn't run away was because I'm rich and cute? Is that a good enough reason for a teenage girl to live under my care, to have a relationship based on that?" he demanded.

There was no response for a moment, but Ro didn't stay to hear if there was one, shaking her head as she step away growing sick. She would have never said that to Zee, well, nothing other than in jest! She wouldn't have ever meant it! She would never want to leave Zee, no matter what his stupid rules were and who cares where he put the glasses! She won't never, _ever_ want to leave him.

This wasn't real, it couldn't possibly be real. Zee even agreeing to send her away! He would never do it, even if she was serious. Her Zee, at least.

Ro turned away from the scene and rushed away, wiping away the tears. Even if this wasn't real, it hurt too much to stay and watch it, to listen to it. She ran blindly up some stairs and collided through a door, slamming it shut, then leaned against it. A different Ro might had slid down crying, but Ro merely bitterly wiped her eyes. This wasn't real, and she wasn't going to get attached. That was her problem, she liked the other Zees she met, but they weren't real, none of this was.

"I WANT TO GO HOME!" she screamed on the top of her lungs, kicking away an empty basket. "I WANT TO GO HOME RIGHT NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME? NONE OF THIS IS REAL!" A bunch of books neatly set on a dresser were thrown the ground with an angry sweep of her arm, and she threw a bunch of comp pads against the wall and window.

With a savage roar, she threw the pillows and comforters off the unmade bed, trying to ball up the blankets and tossing them as far as she could, growing frustrated when all they did was tangle up in her.

There was a red-bounded book on the bed, the only thing left, and Ro gripped it, set to rip out the insides, but the title stopped her. _Diary_. Whose? Ro wiped her eyes and nose, blinking through the haze of confusion to stare at the book with actual pages and not a scrolling screen and type pad.

She didn't bother to feel guilty opening the book to read someone's most personal thoughts. It didn't matter, since none of this was real, after all. Of course, when it turned out to be in her own terrible penmanship, Ro gapped.

"I'd never keep a diary!" she countered, holding it away at arm's length. Yet the book spoke otherwise, and Ro twistedly started to read her own life that was wrong.

* * *

_August 5th, 2041-_

_Zee Smith, what a dorky name._ _What a dork. I can't believe they assigned _him _as my guardian. Please. God, I think I'd rather go back to the Morgan's than be a guinea pig for this new "Big Sibs" Guardianship they're starting, instead of trying for parentals. God, what a dumb idea. He is so clueless, super smart and dumb. And rich, apparently, and cute. Very cute. I'm not blind of course! But so very, very lame. I am so out of here the first chance I get._

* * *

Ro made a face at her—well, not _her_—words and threw the book away. That was so not her, no wonder Zee was trying to get rid of her. She'd try to get rid of herself, calling Zee lame. Zee was not lame; he was . . . Zee.

Even still, Ro curled up into a ball and buried her face in her knees, crying softly. Zee was trying to get rid of her, and it hurt. A lot. She was going to kill herself for making Zee give her up, there was no mistake.


	6. Reality 4

"Row row row row row row," a small voice chatted aimlessly, blissfully. Ro lifted her head away quickly from the comp-book that was balanced on her up drawn knees. She didn't even bother the surprised blink when the sight greeted her, merely groaned and collapsed sideways.

Zee raised his head and blew a raspberry, then went back to the blocks.

She banged her head against the cushion. "No, no, no, no!"

"Row row row row!"

Ro glared at the mimic. "Don't mock me."

He threw a block at her head, but his aim was off and it merely bounced off the sofa cushion. Even still Ro jerked back and sat up in protection. "Bad boy, Zee!" she scolded, waving a finger at him. He copied her, laughing and chatting with silly baby talk.

His attention went to a block, and he held it up to proudly show her the letter _O_. "Row!"

"No." She took it away, lest Zee tried to test if it would sprout wings as well. "It's the letter _O_."

He whimpered angrily, trying to reach his toy. Ro grinned devilishly, holding it just above his reach and swooping it past his hands, but gave it to him once it seemed like he was going to start to cry. He looked at it happily and plopped it down, clapping enthusiastically and making a gurgling sound.

Ro blinked at the use of blocks, how they were arranged, and prayed that it was a coincidence, but deep in the pit of her heart she knew that it wasn't. There on the blocks, some of the letters sideways or upside-down, was _Z-E-T-A A-N-D R-O_, and Zee was beaming. "Good job, Zee," she whispered as she slid down next to the words, although unsure it that was what she should actually be saying. She picked up a block and started to set it the right way, Zee turning his attentions elsewhere, when the sudden arrival shadows sprawled over them. Ro looked up and gasped when she saw the familiar face of Agent Bennett.

"Hello, Ms. Rowan," he smiled pleasantly, and at that Ro was lost. This was not her Bennett. Bennett would never smile at her like it. It was almost warm and . . . and paternal. This smile hinted gooshy kindness and trouble, like melted chocolate in a jeans pocket, like there was some private joke just between the two of them. The face was all right, Ro could work with the face, it was still hard and stern, but the smile just destroyed Bennett. It was like he was, or was trying to be, friends with her, which was just not going to ever happen as long as he insisted on shooting at her and Zee.

Of course, currently he _wasn't_ shooting at her or Zee . . .

"Batahha!" Zee welcomed, clapping and pointing at the taller man. Bennett smiled and knelt down.

"And how are you, Zeta? What have you been up to that's got the Paulnos all worked up this time?" Zee chatted in a very amble fashion, picking up a block and brandishing it in a manner that almost removed the agent's nose from his face.

"Bleghth," he raspberried.

"That's a 'B', Zee," Bennett stated calmly, backing away slightly on the balls of his feet and turning his head to look at the people behind him. "Now would you please tell me what is going on, Mr. and Mrs. Paulno." Huh, even this Bennett didn't ask questions.

Her attention finally turned towards the parentals, somewhat due to the fact that the letter 'B' suddenly bored Zee and he threw it at Mr. Paulno's scuffed shoe. Mr. Paulno wasn't as tall as Bennett, but he was of some height. He had balding mousy brown hair in the snips that indicated Home Bathroom Salon, a last decade wardrobe, and a nose with a bit of character. His wife was tall and thin, a wicked-witch-in-training dropout, blond hair that escaped her hair band and had constant dates with static electricity, in a dress so clean-cut and ironed it looked like a piece of cardboard was set in front of her.

Mr. Paulno kicked the block away while Mrs. Paulno waved a hand in the air irritably for a moment, like the problem was the world in general, then managed to lower her specifics to a set of blocks. "Your recommendation on this, Mr. Bennett?"

Bennett drew his attention to the blocks indicated and stared, and Ro followed his gaze as well, growing speechless. A dogged-eared book—an actual _book_ with pages and pictures—was open, and above it was a messy, waving set of blocks, blocks that made words:

W-H-E-R-E A-R- Y-O-U G-O-I-N-G -N-D W-H- -T D-O - -U - -S-H

T-H- O-L- M-O- - -S-K- -D T-H- T-H-R- -

"I see," Bennett said carefully, face and voice perfectly blank.

Zee ignored the attentions that were slowly graced on him, chatting with a block, and Ro had to fight the sudden urge to slap the toys out of his hands. Instead, she did her best to subtly unarranged any blocks that might make words or possible logarithms. "I did that. We need more blocks, ran out of e's."

Mrs. Paulno pierced her with a leveling gaze. "Quit lying, Rosalie. We _saw_ him do it."

Ro glared at her. Her instant dislike was manifested into true dislike. How dare they call her a liar, even when she was lying, in _that_ tone? That tone that said you weren't worth the time of day, because you were just a kid, worse, a kid under their care.

"Zeta is just as exceptional child, Mrs. Paulno," Bennett said calmly, watching as the "exceptional child" went cross-eyed as he examined a drool-covered edge of the block.

"Yeah, right," Ro scoffed under her breath, carefully gathering all of the blocks out of Zee's reach. Whatever _this _Zee had gotten himself into, she was going to do her very best to get him out of it.

Who was she kidding? She couldn't keep her six-foot Zee out of trouble. What chance did she have to keep a two-foot one out of trouble? He could duck between legs and probably crawled faster than she could run.

Well, she'd still try.

"I hardly think we're capable to dealing with a child such as Zeta," Mr. Paulno stated in a sort of tone that hinted something other than a complete truth was being spoken. "Perhaps he should be placed in a different home."

Bennett stood up, brushing off his meticulous trousers. He towered over both Ro and Zee, and briefly Ro had a flash of how intimidating Agent Bennett could be at times. Suddenly she was glad he was apparently on their side. "I understand the idea that you might feel intimidated or inadequate caring for a child such as Zeta, but there truly is not reason for concern."

"He's just a _whittle_ boy," Ro put in childishly, keeping the blocks away from Zee. Apparently large piles of blocks deserved more attention than a drool-covered one, as Zee's interest showed, and the two were currently semi-fighting over the toys.

"Rosalie, give Zee the blocks."

"We're _playing_!"

The parentals glared at her while Agent Bennett _almost_ rolled his eyes. "Is there anything else?"

It took a moment for their attentions to get off Ro, and Mrs. Paulno strained her neck slightly. "Perhaps we could discuss this more privately." She was already walking a discrete distance away, and Ro watched the others follow, curious.

Her attention was drawn back when Zee smacked her sock-clad foot with a block. "OWW! Zee, no!" she ordered, taking the block somewhat forcefully away from him.

His face scrunched up at her tone, and Zee whimpered and gave her a classic _kicked-puppy_ face, reaching carefully for his stolen plaything. "Roooow?"

"No," she said quietly. "Don't act smart, Zee. Parents don't like it when their kids are smarter than them. Be dumb. Okay."

"Gdahph," he started, slowly moving to an unguarded block. Ro caught the movement and snatched the toy away. His face scrunched up and prepared to cry, and Ro started to look around wildly for a safe distraction. Her eyes spied something on the table and she grabbed it, waving it quickly in front of the child's face.

"Lookie, Zee! Look, look. Pretty! Don't cry, don't cry, pretty!" she cooed.

Either this child had a very short attention span, or he was a good actor and knew how to get her wrapped round his little finger quicker than a bunny, for Zee cheered up and cooed, reaching for the little orb. "Row row row!"

"No blocks!" Ro ordered happily, watching as he pudgy hands grasped the smooth surface and gapped in the inside with little saucer eyes.

Bennett's voice brought her back to the other problem. "If you have any more questions, Mr. and Mrs. Paulno, you know where to reach me." He didn't appear pleased, in fact his face looked . . . normal. He looked angry and pissed at something, all sharp edges and glares. That was her Agent Bennett, and it was probably one time Ro was going to be happy to see him. "I'll see myself out. Good bye, Zeta, Ro."

The Paulnos looked at each other after the agent left, then looked back to the children. "Rosalie, take that away from him!" Mrs. Paulno screeched. "He could hurt himself."

"No, he couldn't!" she argued snidely. "He's not stupid."

Mrs. Paulno didn't appear to like the comment and stalked over, taking the knickknack from Zee. Zee blinked in surprise and stared up at is confiscated object and raised his hands, making upset sounds.

"No, Zeta! Ro should never have given this to you! Totally irresponsible!"

He made a louder noise and upset face, and Ro decided to step in. "Maybe you'd better—"

"No!" Mrs. Paulno turned abruptly and took her husband's arm just as Zee realized he _wasn't_ getting the toy back and expressed his upset.

Zee had strong little lungs, and it was all Ro could do not to take cover behind the sofa. Tears streamed down his baby-fat-filled face, eyes scrunched up.

"Ro! Settle him down!"

She gave a whimpering, helpless sound, looking around wildly to see if another Ro would suddenly appear or if this world would just go away.

She wasn't so lucky.

Carefully, Ro moved over to Zee and awkwardly took him in her arms. "Hey, hey, shh, shh. I know she's mean, isn't she? Shh, shh, don't cry, Zee," she pleaded, bouncing lightly. Hey, it worked in the movies.

Zee kept crying, although quieter, and buried his damp face into her shirt. She rubbed his back and kept bouncing and rocking until he settled down.

"All better?" she smiled down.

He sniffed and looked up at her with red-rimmed blue eyes, damp eyelashes, tear streaks still marking themselves, and snot. "Rows," he sniffed, a slight roll to the name and hiccup.

"Zeee," she buzzed back, and pushed his nose, attempting to ignore the mucus. He grinned up at her and rolled the word again, like a giant kitten. Ro buzzed his name in a flighty tune and varying pitches. Zee laughed and tried to purr louder and longer.

She shook her head at the laughing, continuing the game, and wondered why it was always snow globes that caught Zee's attention.


	7. Reality 5

"Is there anything else, Ms. Rowan?"

Her eyes looked up slowly. And there—she wished she could have been surprised—was Zee. In glasses. He looked like a dork. A cute dork. In a violet jacket with black trim. He looked very smart in glasses. And he was staring at her.

He was staring at her.

So she spoke intellectually. "Huh?"

"Do you have another question about the assignment?"

Assignment? Ooh, god. She smiled weakly. "Do I have to do it?"

Zee smiled at her, the edges of his mouth going up quickly, and his hand went up to his glasses. "Only if you would like to continue having a passing grade in the class, of course. I don't force students to do anything."

Ro gave him a look. There was some twisted Zee logic in all that bull. Zee was a teacher. Teachers did not say you didn't have to do the assignment. They bullied and tricked and were evil overlords. "Ha ha, very funny."

"Merely a small lesson in free will, Ms. Rowan. Have a nice day." He nodded kindly at her, then set out down the hall, briefcase in hand protectively. Ro leaned slightly, watching as Zee went down the hall. Her eyebrows set themselves at weird angles. Zee fumbled and looked lost, a ship in a rolling sea of bodies. Zee was at high school, teaching high school, and he was lost, a little boy looking for mommy's hand. Ro almost felt sorry for him. She didn't for two reasons though. One, he was not actually Zee, her Zee. This was all made up, not real. Two, he was a teacher. Teachers equal Evil. Of course, under that logic, Zee would equal Evil, but that was wrong. Still, teacher. Evil.

Poor Zee.

Her view was blocked suddenly, and Ro looked around to find herself surrounded by a group of girls. And she recognized one. "Tiffy?"

Tiffy, although not quite Tiffy, because her hair was curled in soft waves, said with light humor, "Now that you're done harassing Dr. Smith, we have to get going, Ro!"

"I can't believe you just walked up to him after class," another girl said, almost in awe.

"He's just a sub for Dr. Selig, Marguerite. Nothing important."

"Ro!" Tiffy wailed. "We have to get going, otherwise our ride is going to take off without us. _Again_."

Ro nodded blankly, trying to absorb everything that she could. Zee was a sub. Well, that didn't equal evil. That equaled stupid and insane, which she _could _identify with Zee. "Umm, right. Sorry, guys, can't afford to lose the ride."

A chorus of byes followed her and Ro tailed Tiffy. She and Tiffy Morgan were friends? Okay, someone is definitely smoking something naughty here.

"Man, if he ditches us again, I am so gonna kick his ass," Tiffy swore.

_Okay! That's not Tiffy!_ Tiffy would never utter such profanities, and Ro had to struggle not to gap in astonishment. The worst her Tiffy Morgan ever uttered was "Darn" and "Heck". They were sad battle cries, in Ro's opinion.

They navigated through the throng, Ro merely clutched her books to her chest and following Tiffy, looking widely around like a scared little rabbit, except when Ro looked like a scared little rabbit, she tended to look like a scared little pit bull. When they reached the outside, Ro turned carefully and looked up at the building. The impersonal title _Nosis_ _Creek High School_ announced this purgatory's name, and she bit her lip.

"Where _is_ he?" Tiffy demanded, swearing slightly.

Ro turned her head, wildly, still unsure. "Wh—"

A loud honking halted her question, and when she saw the source, her books fell from her hands. There, sitting in a blue convertible hover car, just like so many Zee had purchased before, in the _real_ world, was Casey, still with his red hair and beard and silly dress outfit, waiting impatiently for them.

"Whheeee!" Tiffy squealed as she rushed towards the car and unto the backseat.

"Ro!" Casey—well, not _Casey_, it couldn't be, it couldn't _**be**_, because Casey had _never_ picked her up from school, because he _couldn't_ have—yelled, aggravated. "Hurry up!"

Tiffy laughed, and Ro's eyes were wide at that laugh. It was so maniacal and inheritably Ro-ishly _evil_. It was a _fun_ Tiffy laugh, not a silly, bubbly, air headed one. "Poor whittle baby has to pick up his whittle sister again," she teased as she leaned forward to pinch the redhead's cheek.

"_RO_!"

"Shouldn't play cards against us, whittle baby."

"Get in here, or I'm leaving without you!" Casey yelled, fending off Tiffy from pinching his cheeks again.

"Yeah, come on, Ro! We can't miss the new _Travell's_ tonight!"

Ro took a small step back. She didn't want to get into the car, she didn't, but . . . but what could she do? She looked wildly around for a savior.

And there was Zee.

Standing there straightening his should bag of books and files like the classic nerd.

It wasn't her Zee.

But Heaven help her, Ro wanted to run to him, scream for help and have him rescue her pretty damsel in distress.

But—kneeling down slowly to gather her books—this wasn't her Zee . . .

"_Ro!_" Tiffy whined. At the voice, Zee looked up and met her gave small, shy smile, and gave a small wave. She waved back, then watched as he ducked his head down to finish his task, preoccupied. Another student came up to him at his elbow, and Zee turned his head to listen.

"RO!"

She gather her books to her arms and clutched them tightly to her chest, rising slowly. Then, talking a deep steadying breath, she slowly made her way over to the once lost, now found brother and the once-needed friend, to the sporty, expensive—did Zee's unlimited cred card know it!—convertible, like a waking dream. Towards a perfect dream at one time.

She briefly looked over her shoulder.

Walking away from Zee.

She looked back at the two in the car. Slowly she was walking them.

Towards the gallows.

Numbly she sat opened the door and sat down, avoiding eye-contact. It wasn't real.

"About time, Ro," Casey growled, slamming on the gas and driving away.

Tiffy laughed at his anger and patted his head. "Poor, Casey . . . you want a mint-tac to make it all better?" She was already shuffling through purse, winking at Ro.

"Bite me, Brat."

Ro looked back over her shoulder again, at the shrinking school, at the shrinking purple jacket, while the car swerved and weaved through the slower moving vehicles, Tiffy laughing all the while.

_Not real_, she thought softly, squeezing her eyes shut against the bright lights of the sun and reflection off of glass, blocking out the blaring horns that scolded Casey's driving. "Not real."


	8. Reality 6

"Ro?"

The voice was so familiar, so achingly familiar in the silly boy nervousness that Ro's eyes opened their own accord, dimly focusing on the familiar dark hair and purple jacket. She focused on him, the face. He was younger here, hair more wild, more real. Ro suddenly had the urge to touch it, smooth it back down into its perfect, no cow-lick, fly-away holographic form. Her hand was half-way up before her senses came back.

"Huh?"

Zee was shifting nervously from foot to foot with a nervous little smile, fingering the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, what do you say?" He shrugged hopelessly, casting a winning smile. "Wanna go?"

Ro stared blankly at him, then forced her tongue to move. "Ahh, sure." _Go where?_

He visibly relaxed, and his smile didn't seem so forced. "That's great," he said enthusiastically. "Is 8 o'clock good?"

She nodded slowly. " . . . Uh-huh."

"Great. Great!" He nodded again, full of boyish glee. Then he quickly peck her cheek, blushed when he pulled back, and walked quickly away, with a "Bye."

Ro patted her cheek and made a face. "Ehhh . . .?"

There was a squeal at her elbow. "Ro!"

She turned her head slowly, mouth still open. There was Tiffy again. _Hi, Tiffy. You cut your hair. It looks nice_. "Tiffy?"

Tiffy was still missing her shell-shockedness, gripping her arm and jumping up and down, taking Ro's left side for the ride. "I can't believe it! He asked you to Prom!"

Ro blinked. "_He did—_"


	9. Reality 7

"_**WHAT?**_"

There was the almost comical crash as someone fell from their seat from surprise, and Ro felt her hands stinging, probably from when she had slammed her hands onto the table to project herself into a standing position. Except that she hadn't done that, finding herself just standing there.

With a _whole_ lot of eyes staring at her.

"Jeez, Ro, what's your problem?" demanded a voice from the opposite end of the table, face currently out of view due to be under the table.

However, when the face appeared, Ro could only stare. "Oh . . . my . . .gahhhh!" she finished, pointing, horrified with eyes wide.

"What?!" Zee demanded, backing away from his obviously troubled companion. But then again, he knew Ro was weird and troubled. She was Ro, after all.

"You're Bucky!"

"Who?" He leaned forward. "Ro! Stop it, you're gonna get us thrown—"

"You're _young_!" Which, in retrospect, Ro had to admit, was a pretty dumb statement to make, considering that she had met a _not-real _– cannot stress that enough, she told herself – baby and toddler version of Zee. But still, a Bucky-sized Zee was just . . . _wrong_! Worse, it was sick _and _wrong.

"Well, duh! Wait, I'm not _young!_"

Ro could only stare in response, staring at the thirteen year old. Okay, okay, Zee did not look like Bucky—_there is a Heaven _— but . . . but he's Bucky! He glared petulantly at her.

"What _is _your problem?" he repeated angrily, taking a handful of fries and devouring them as only teenage boys could. It involved the snake-like trait of unhinging the jaw and swallowing prey whole. It was with this action that Ro received another revelation — Zee was eating. Zee was eating food.

"You're eating!"

"Shut up, Ro! You ate half of my burger, the least you could do is share your now cold fries!" he snapped back, and purposefully grabbed another handful.

"No! You're _eating_!" In all the other zones of Twilight, she had never seen Zee eat, and she watched with a fascination that was far from sane, should anyone not know the reason for her staring.

Zee raised a brow. "Hence why we came here?" he answered, mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" she ordered instantly. If Zee was going to eat, he was going to eat with proper manners.

"Bite me," he scoffed as he picked off more fries. "Like you ever do."

She glared at him. "Listen, you little Bucky-wannabe, it won't kill you to have some manners."

"Who the hell is Bucky?" Zee asked with a twisted sort of keen interest. "Is he your new _boyfriend_?"

There was something very, very, _very_ fundamentally wrong in seeing any incarnation of Zee making a kissy face, eyes bashing, and hands clasped to his cheek in a parody of a romantic heroine. What was worse was that somehow it looked utterly sincere as well as being an utter parody, a direct mimic of what the _real_ Zee's holographic abilities could have done.

"Knock it off, Twerp!" Ro ordered, growing upset the reminder that this wasn't the real Zee, _her_ Zee. She lowered head and rubbed her temple, trying to think and relieve the headache this all was. A figurative and literal headache.

"No," he said. "I am, after all, an _evil_ genius."

"No, you're just some illusional wannabe."

Zee sighed mockingly. "Ro, if you're going to deny the truth, at least use the right words. It's _delusional_."

Ro glared at him. This was perhaps the worst possible combination – Bucky's smugness and Zee's always-correctness. Except this time. "You're illusional. Completely, one-hundred-percent illusion—"


	10. Reality 4, Again

"—al."

There was almost little surprise to Ro that she was no longer speaking to the Bucky-Zee hybrid. In fact, she was speaking to herself, in a dark bedroom. There was the slight glow of the nightlight in the corner, a stream of light from under the closed door, and some faint street lights from the window. As her eyes looked around, she saw a bed – presumably "hers" – and something that was probably a toy chest.

It took her a long moment to realize that she was standing in front of another bed, or at least a crib, and looking in she saw the angel-like sleeping form of Zee. And she remembered this Zee, the small baby Zee who liked snow globes and spelled with letter blocks, the one where Agent Bennett was nice and looked after them.

Despite herself, Ro smiled gently and brushed the soft hair. The kid didn't even twitch, deep in sleep, and Ro leaned against the crib and looked down at the little guy. At least this one didn't snore, Ro thought with amusement.

Soon enthralled with looking at such a precious Zee, even if it was a fraud, Ro didn't realize she wasn't the only one awake. Slowly, her ears picked up and started to understand that it was voices, and she left her vigil to press her ear against the wood of the door.

It was the parentals' voices. She couldn't catch all of the words, but all of the words weren't needed to get their meaning.

" … just give him up …"

" … expensive …"

" … shame … waste a gift …

" … get money if … to Brothers' Day …"

Her breath froze in her throat at such callous ideas. How could anyone decide to get rid of Zee, especially this one? Fine, he was probably a little genius, but what sort of person made that excuse to get rid of him? He wasn't some homeless puppy. And expensive … this Zee would be swamped with scholarships, if that was a problem!

And to send him to Brothers' Day! Ro had only heard stories about the Brothers' Day – stories all orphans and wards tell the smart brainy children to scare them – a group that specialized in smart things and did possibly not law-abiding tthings. Wards and children with families went there, and all of the stories were never pleasant. Memorizing dictionaries and formulas and creating things so the organization could someday rule the world. Such a place would only make him a little drone, never let him outside to play!

Ro turned and leaned heavily against the door, gritting her teeth. Even if he wasn't real, the little guy didn't deserve that. She had to help him, somehow. This was just a dream, so he had to be able to control a thing. Had to.

Somehow.


	11. Reality 2, Again

The jerk of the change made her stumble, and Ro would have fallen if Zee had a lesser grip on her hand. "Ro, come on! Run!" he yelled, because they were running.

Behind them the familiar hum of the NSA vehicles were closer than they ever should be allowed to come, and the sound of lasers hitting buildings and targets that were thankfully not they yet.

Terror filled her, because of course, she was getting shot at, but what was worse, she didn't know _why_. Not the real reason for this time, how the agents had found them this time, how truly dangerous this was. Yes, all chases were dangerous, but there Ro had learned how judge the level because of her time with Zee. Was this one worse than usual? And it was all so unfamiliar, the city and streets. She could have never escaped alone.

Ro tried to run faster, tried to match Zee's pace, but of course she couldn't. Zee was a synthoid and could run faster than a horse, and this Zee – this clone – he could at least run as fast as a horse. Even if the man holding her hand and dragging her was trying to go slow enough for her to keep up, adrenaline wanted him to run faster and his brain told him to, and he was doing so even as he told himself to slow down.

And suddenly her leg was on fire and she screamed and fell, eyes crying and nerves flaring. Ro couldn't even turn and look at the damage of her leg, because she couldn't even move, the pain was so great. Dimly, she heard Zee yell her name, felt his hands on her, but the pain was making her insensible.

This couldn't be real, Ro sobbed to herself. It couldn't.

Through the fog, she felt herself leaving the ground and then the painful jarring motions as her protector ran with her in his arms. Ro could only sob into the heaving chest as she fell to darkness.


	12. Reality 1, Again

And in the darkness, there was sunlight.

Ro twisted around, surprised and still terrified, adrenaline still coursing in her blood. She was in the suburbs, a pretty house with a green yard and decorative bushes and –

And then her leg! It was being tightened, like in a vice, and she jumped and nearly screamed before she looked down, expecting blood and gore and necessary amputation and instead saw the grinning face of the blue-eyed child Zee that had started her on this trip.

"Your little shadow found you, Ro!" a voice laughed, and Ro twisted again to see her brother Casey laughing at her from the side of the house, leaning against a hoe.

Ro darted her head back and forth and around, seeing the house and the little Zee that looked at her with such adoration and Casey and then Zee's "parents" and Zee and the house and it all became too much, even though she was in the outdoors it all seemed to be closing in and her breaths didn't bring in enough air …


	13. Reality 3, Again

Now she was in a bedroom. It looked familiar. She'd been here before, hadn't she? Or were all the rooms alike? Or was she going crazy?

Don't answer that one.

But she still couldn't breathe. Gasping for breath, Ro staggered a step forward and then back, as the world itself felt topsy-turvy. Her head felt like there was a balloon expanding in there, pressing against her skull and eyeballs, like a migraine from hell. The pain was making her nauseous.

What was wrong with her? Why was this happening? Even if she could have thought of those questions or their answers, Ro couldn't have understood them, not in her current condition. She staggered out of the bedroom and into the hall.

There was something wrong with her; she was going crazy. She needed help. She needed Zee. Even a fake would do, right now.

The edges of her vision seemed to be blackening, but Ro stubbornly continued down the hall and slowly down the stairs. She could hear someone humming tunelessly, off-key, in a cheery carefree way. So Zee.

Her nose almost acted like a guide as well. The smell of food made her gag and she had to swallow several times, though her mouth still tasted icky.

She made it to the kitchen and propped herself against the doorframe. There he was, standing at the stove and flicking something around with a spatula. If she hadn't been in so much misery, felt so sick, whatever he was making might have smelt good. Now, though, Ro was in no condition to enjoy it.

She whimpered, bringing the heel of her hand to her head. The sound made Zee turn to face her. "Hey, Ro. I hope you like … are you all right?" he asked, desperately concerned and coming to her. Ro could only desperately not giggle at the hilarity of the Kiss-the-Cook apron he was wearing. "Ro, you're as white as a sheet."

When she moved, the floor must have moved in the opposite direction, because Ro staggered. With almost inhuman speed – but he was human, so it had to be human speed – Zee rushed and caught her before she hit the ground, and she unconsciously gripped him back.

"Jeez, you're burning up."

"I don't want to go again," she gasped before the world blacked and shifted again.


	14. Reailty 6, Again

They were in a department store, surrounded by frills and satin and cuffs and shiny material and hemlines and tiaras and a rainbow of clashing colors. It was a level of Hell Dante had not explored.

And then the Lord of the realm appeared, directly in front of Ro, who staggered back, only to nearly fall on her butt.

"What do you think of this one?" Tiffy asked gleefully, holding up possibly the most disgusting Prom dress ever designed.

"Gah –"

"It's so totally you!"

Ro's jaw dropped. Oh that was uncalled for. First this nightmare and saying _that_ dress was her. She gripped her hair and opened her mouth and …


	15. Reality 7, Again

… and screamed.

There was an answering yell, and then Bucky-Zee pushed her. "What's with you?!" he hissed. "We're supposed to be in cognito!"

Around them, Ro noticed the whole street looking curiously at them.

"I mean, do you _want_ Bennett to find us? Hey, jeez, leggo! Ow, ow, _ow_! Ro!"

She ignored his whining until they were in an alley, and then she pushed him against the wall. "All right, Twerp, what the _hell_ is going on?!"

Zee scowled at her and tried to shake her off, but she pushed him back. "Knock it off! What's with you?"

"What's going on!" she repeated, maybe slightly hysterical.

"You're manhandling me, that's what!"

Ro narrowed her eyes. "You're going to tell me, or so help me I will kill you, you little fake."

Now he looked genuinely perplexed. "What are you talking about, Ro? Lose the rest of your already few marbles? Hey." He flinched away from her fist, though it probably was only for show. She doubted she could ever hit Zee in any incarnation.

"Start talking."

"Maybe if you gave me an idea of what I'm supposed to be talking about," he said mutinously.

And she did, in rapid-fire speech, spewing it all out, how he was all wrong, everything was wrong, her head was killing her, and if she met any more fake Zees without meeting the real one, she was going to _kill_ him.

Several expressions went over the boy's face – disbelief, interest, humor, curiosity, thinking, and then falling on a sort of bland acceptance.

"All right, let's pretend I believe you, don't think you've been smoking magic mushrooms. What do you think _I_ can do?"

That question stumped Ro. She hadn't ever thought that after telling Zee – any of them – they wouldn't know how to fix it. Zee always knew what to do. It was part of his programming, if not literally. She'd thought, if she had thought about it at all, that once she told him, it'd all get better. She clung to that. "How should I know? You're the evil genius."

He looked at her, cocking a brow. "You must be telling the truth. You'd never call be a genius otherwise. Besides, you're never this sane. Hey, drop the fist, I said I'd help you, fake-Ro."

"You'd better, fake-Zee." Even as she said it, part of Ro was smiling, and she stepped away from her threatening posture.

"Well, I guess we'd better go to your favorite place in the world. The library." He grinned at her devilishly, making it quite clear that he knew she would hate such a place. "Now, explain to me everything, again. And slower, please. And without the Ro-ese."

Part of her was marveling that he was taking this all in stride, accepting, because Ro realized that if someone had told her what she had just told him, she'd have slowly backed away. She started to explain, again, growing angry when he interrupted with questions she really didn't know answers to. She barely understood what was happening, and it was happening to her.

"No, I did _not_ push a button that said Do Not Push."

"Never know with you," Zee said, grinning as he typed at the console, eyes darting over the rapidly moving text. Apparently he could read and type as fast as the real Zee. "Believe it or not, there's not that much written about parallel universes and alternative dimensions. I mean, there's Star Trek's _Mirrorverse_ and not much else. The rest is science fiction."

"Since when is Star Trek nonfiction?"

He gave her a look. "Believe what you want, Ro, but _everyone_ knows it's real."

"Right, Zee. Just like Christmas-land."

"Just go through the tree with a Tree for a door." He typed some more. "There's also the philosophy segment, but that's just nonsense. People like Matin and …"

Ro's head snapped up. "That's it. It's …"


	16. Reality 5, Again

"Matin!"

Everyone turned and looked at her, and Ro felt her face flame. And up in the front of the room, Dr. Zee Smith, bending down to pick up a pointer, was looking genuinely perplexed. "Yes, Ms. Rowan?"

Ro leaned back in her seat and tried to regain herself. "Ymmm … yeah, that sort of sounds like … Matin?" she hedged, looking at the board of squiggles and letters that made no sense to her whatsoever.

Dr. Smith blinked and then beamed into a large smile. "Very impressive, Ms. Rowan. Of course, Matin fudged several of his equations and the math is extremely sloppy, but he did base a lot of his …"

Ro groaned, along with several other students. She couldn't leave this one fast enough.


	17. Reality 3, Once Again

She should learn to be careful what she wished for, because suddenly she felt like crap. Crappy crap. She groaned and struggled to push herself up, but only managed to collapse further in the bed. Ro tried to look around, but it didn't seemed to help and it just made it more difficult to think. "Zee …?" she tried calling out weakly.

He didn't appear, but that might have been asking for too much. Ro sank into the bed, feeling every bit of herself rundown and hit by a tank. Great, she had almost been making progressive. Now she was dying.

She must have fallen asleep – or died momentarily – because she was being gently shaken. Ro groaned and tried to pry her eyes open. At the sight, her lips did quirk to see a terribly worried Zee holding a steaming cup of what she'd bet was chicken soup.


	18. Reality 2, Once Again

And then she was walking up again, a loud noise making her want to spring forward and escape, though when she moved her leg protested in fiery ovation. She grit her teeth, trying to work past the pain and only made her jaw and temple hurt, and suddenly it came to her that she was hearing the ever-familiar snore of Zee, huddled in the sleeping bag behind her. If she rolled over, she could see him sleeping like a child.

Ro couldn't help it, she started giggling insanely. Almost with it, her head quivered, like a bone was digging into her brain, and she gasped in pain, curling into a ball and whimpering.

Why was this happening to her? It didn't make sense.

Her whimpering must have woken Zee, because suddenly his arm was arm her waist and drawing her closer, and he was kissing the back of her head. "Shhh, shh, Ro, it's okay."

"Zee?" Her voice quavered.

"Do you need some more morphine?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"You snore." And suddenly, maybe because of the pain, maybe because of everything that was happening to her, maybe because this Zee was doing what her Zee never could, she started crying.

His voice was deep and kind. "Hey, shh, it's okay. I've got you."

When his grip tightened around her, because she was trembling, Ro sniffed, "Where's my Zee?"

"I'm right here. Shh, go back to sleep. I'll be right here. I promise."


	19. Reality 5, Of Sorts

And then he was gone, replaced by people she had only seen in photographs. Her parents. And Casey. They were all sitting around a table, eating.

This might have been the worst of it, to actually see her parents. People who had been dead for years, that she barely had any memory of. And there was no Zee to make it all tied together.

"How do you like the roast, Rosalie?" her mother asked. (Her mother never would call her Ro, Ro had always felt.) "And take some more peas."

This wasn't real, Ro had to tell herself, even as she stared at them, marveled at this, her family.


	20. Reality 7, Once Again

When Ro blinked, the world was outside the window, rainy. She was in a café, possibly semi-drowned and depositing half a lake beneath her seat. Grimacing she started to ring out her hair and looked around to get her bearings.

It didn't take long, because soon an equally drown Zee sat across from her, sliding across a steaming cup. She leaned forward. "Right, Twerp, tell me about Matin."

Zee sputtered in his drink and looked at her cautiously. "Fake-Ro?"

"Yeah, Fake-Zee."

"You know, you got to work on your departure notices. Real-Ro gave me the riot act for bringing her to a library."

Ro snorted. If she could figure out when she was departing, why she was departing, and how, this probably wouldn't be nearly as annoying. "Yeah, just tell me about it, and how I stop it."

Zee brushed his hair back, rolling his eyes. "Ro, it's just a theory. A very _stupid_ one, by the way. It's not real."

"Bull on that."

"How do you even know it is Matin? I mean, hello, shot in the dark, isn't it? You could have gotten shot by a laser or something and are being pulled between these worlds. Jeez, and does that sound like bad science fiction."

"One, it has to be it, because it's the only thing that makes sense. I didn't sleep through all of that seminar my Zee took me to."

He coughed. "Wait, are you saying I _willingly_ went to some shit like this? Fake-Ro, I think you're finally meeting the real me." He looked at her through narrowed eyes. "You know, I bet you're just having some psychotic break or something. People crack under the stress we're under, and well, you're just a girl. OW!"

"And you're an idiot! How do I fix this?"

Zee covered his head protectively. "How should I know? But jeez, you got to calm down. It doesn't help beating up the brains of the outfit."

"The brains –"

"Tis true." He grinned and downed his drink.

"This isn't real," she reminded. "None of it."

"But what if it is?"


	21. Reality 8

There were apple blossoms. Or what Ro would call apple blossoms. Really, who though she really knew what apple blossoms looked like, because she never lived anywhere near apple orchards. But the flowers were small and white and pretty, and a nice breeze wafted their scent through the air.

She was in a park, on a bench under one of the blooming trees, and there was a heavy weight in her arms. Looking down, Ro could only stare in shock – she'd been doing that a lot lately – at the small figure in her arms.

A small infant. If the tuft of jet-black hair – it poked straight up and curled, like one of the old Dr. Suess Who characters – the entire face was just an earlier version of Zee's. He was sleeping, curled against her warmth and secure in her grip, his small fist nearly being sucked by a mouth made of puckered lips.

Her heart melted. (Whose wouldn't?) She found herself cooing and gently rocking the little guy.

Part of Ro wondered why she was holding the newborn Zee. Was she like a nanny or something? Looking around, she didn't see any other adults or possible parents. Of course, that really didn't mean anything. There was a buggy. She probably just took him for a walk in the park.

… For a moment, Ro pondered another possibility, but very quickly tossed it aside.

That wasn't important though. Ro doubted she'd be around long enough for it to become a concern. So she sat back and rocked the small Zee.

"I wonder if you're going to be super-smart too?" she said. "Well, perhaps _smart_ isn't the right word."

It was nice, in this park, calm and relaxing. That was probably the apple blossoms and their aromatherapy. In it, Ro could think.

The only Zee that had been helpful was the Bucky-like one, admittedly because that was the only one she had broken down to. But the others, they probably couldn't have helped her anyway. The little kids, they all seemed to look to her, and any of the older ones would have probably just thought she was crazy or delirious – because she was pretty sure she was sick in one of those worlds and had been shot in another.

So her only help came from Bucky-Zee, and a fat lot of good he was. He didn't even think it was possible, that she was merely crazy. (Maybe she was.) He thought she pushed a button or fell down a rabbit hole or got shot with a las—

But she _had_ been shot by a laser, hadn't she? Those Jokerz. But that was just some stupid weapon. She should be dead.

… Maybe she _was_ dying. Maybe they were wrong, that you didn't see your life before you died, but something else?

No, Rowan, you're being crazy.

But it did make sense, didn't it? Even a little?

She had been shot. Possibly fatally. Maybe she was dying. Maybe, maybe she was already dead.

But then why was all of this happening?

Her pondering was interrupted when the little infant Zee jerked and kicked his feet, and she quickly looked down just in time to see him yawn. She smiled softly and rubbed his little pudgy chin, and his eyes blearily opened and looked up at her. And he grabbed her finger and held it with all his baby strength, which was surprisingly a lot.

Ro smiled and wondered who was taking care of Zee in this world.

And then it came to her. Maybe _she_ was. Yes, that was it. She was taking care of Zee in all of the worlds. (How, exactly, was up for debate.) Maybe it was egotistical, but suddenly Ro felt she understood what this was all about – she was his Guardian Angel, or something like that.

She was like that ancient show, where the main character leapt into other person's life and made sure it would all go for the best. It was just that she didn't have a hologram and a super-computer to help her. She had to figure it out herself.

Yes, it made sense – if she didn't think too hard. She _was _probably dead, but because she was dead, she could float around and make sure everything was okay before she really went away, forever. Obviously, her Zee didn't need help, but the rest did. Or a few of them, because some of the worlds seemed okay without her help. She probably just had to visit them because no one really figured out the way to the afterlife.

So that's what she'd do, Ro decided. She'd make sure everything was right and proper, or at least connected.

And then she could rest. Part of Ro was amused that she was okay that she was dead.

"Of course, not like you can do anything about it now, can you, Rowan? Can I, Zee?" she asked the gurgling baby. "Nope. So I just got to make sure the rest of you guys don't get your heads blown off."

He jerked her finger, as if in agreement.

"Let's go for a walk." Carefully, perhaps fumbling, Ro stood up and put Zee into the stroller, covered him up. And then she walked down the trail, humming a tune and feeling worlds lighter.


	22. Reality 7, Once More

She was still wet when she came back, so she must not have been gone long, although they were now outside. "I figured it out."

"Huh, what?"

"I figured it all out, Fake-Zee."

"Oh, you again, you split personality Fake-Ro."

"I'm dead."

Zee looked at her strangely. "Err, right. The Zombie-look is good on you."

"No. You're right. I got shot by a laser-gun a Jokerz. So I'm probably dead. But before I can pass on, I have to first make all of you Zees don't get your heads blown off."

Zee grabbed her arm and made them stop walking, and they ducked under an awning so the people around them could keep on walking. "What are you talking about?"

She looked at him, eyes narrowed. "I don't think I have to do anything with you. You seem normal, for a non-synthoid Zee. Obviously, your Ro is talking good care of you."

His face curled in a bit of insult. "Ro doesn't take care of me. I mean, you don't! Just shut up, Ro, it isn't funny anymore. It never really was, you know."

"I'm not your Ro," Ro said calmly. "I'm dead."

He looked angry at her proclamation. "Shut up, Ro! This isn't funny. Even if you are possibly telling the truth, you can't be dead."

She shrugged. "I am. I'm just not completely dead yet."

"So you're living other yous' lives?" he suggested sarcastically.

"Yeah," Ro said, thinking it over. "I probably am. So maybe I'm alive, in a sense."

Zee snorted. "If that's that case, you're living on borrowed time. Ro, just knock it off, all right. Just stop it."

"No." And a reason came to her mind, and she beamed. "You asked me to Prom."

Zee jumped back at if she had given him an electric shot. "_I did not!_"

"So I'm not leaving and going to be dead," she continued blithely. "Not until then. I deserve it."

"God, Ro, you're disgusting!"


	23. Reality 3, Last Time

The familiar feeling of crappiness told her which world she was in, more than the bedroom and worried Zee.

Ro knew what she had to do for this one. The stupid self of this world didn't want to stay and probably was making every effort to get out of it, and she doubted her appearance helped. So all she had to do was making crystal-clear to this Zee that she didn't want to leave, that he couldn't get rid of her, that it'd scar this Ro for the rest of her life. All that jibberish they give prospective fosters about giving the children a stable environment.

She'd explain it all to him … after she finished throwing up on him.

Once she was finished Ro looked up at him contritely and hoped he wouldn't hold it against her. Either of her.

Even this Zee didn't seem the type to hold a grudge at being vomited it, as he merely shed his light purple jacket and quickly handed her a glass of water. "Here, drink this, Ro. It'll help," he said as he helped her sit up.

"S-s-sorry," she sniffed, for her throat hurt, after she swallowed.

He smiled. "Don't worry about it. Just remember this the next time you don't want to get a flu shot."

"I don't want to go," she said quickly, trying to look at him. "I don't want you to get rid of me."

Zee blinked at her, surprised, as if he thought that was going to be the last thing from her mouth. Perhaps he did. "Ro, we'll talk about this when you're better," he said finally and he guided her back down.

"I don't!" she said, seeing that he didn't believe her, and part of Ro felt desperate.

"Ro, when you're better."

"You've got to listen –"

"Ro," he said, suddenly very firm, but still kind. "If we're going to have this conversation, I'm going to make sure we have it when you can't claim delirium from a fever. Lie down."

She listened, and part of her smiled. "You promise?"

"Yes," he nodded, bending to pick up his soiled shirt.

"Even though you called the case worker?" Because Ro remembered that, and it would probably make things difficult.

His gaze snapped back at her, and then he looked contrite. "Even though," he said softly. "And I think she'll understand, since she knows you so well. Now, go to sleep."

She gripped his sleeve, desperate for at least one more reassurance.

He must have understood that much. Zee patted her wrist. "Ro, I promise. Now, please, sleep."

She sighed with relief at that, finally obeying. Zee never went back on his word. It was as good as gold. Everything would be all right here.


	24. Reality 5, Maybe the Last Time

She did wake up, mostly because Dr. Zee Smith had called on her, and she still felt groggy. "Umm, yeah?"

"Ms. Rowan, _please_ try to stay awake," he sighed from the front of the class. "Do you know how to answer the problem on the screen?"

Ro scowled mentally. Of course she didn't. And she wasn't sure how she was supposed to help this Zee, or if he really deserved or needed it. "Use a calculator?"

Dr. Smith sighed, as if severely put upon as the rest of the class giggled. "Probably the worst invention in the world, the calculator. When I was a student, we actually had to _memorize_ things and know how to solve things."

"So you just look really young for your age," a student shot out.

She cringed and the teacher started to explain how to solve the problem _without_ calculator. She probably somehow made things worse. And then, paying attention to his explanation, she called out, "Isn't that the pirate thing .. arrr dee-arrrr?" She remembered Bucky explaining that, once upon a time, when he was trying to prove his not-geekiness by showing how math could be funny. (His method meant he was destined to fail, and he was so geeky he couldn't even see that.)

"Exactly, Ms. Rowan! And what a clever mnemonic."

"I'm just full of surprises. Hey, do you like snow globes?"

Dr. Smith paused and tilted his head as he looked at her. "Ummm … yes, I suppose so, Ms. Rowan."

"Thought so."

He looked like he was curious to ask why she had asked, but instead went back to the problem at hand. Ro merely sat back in her seat. Perhaps trying not to disrupt his class was enough help.


	25. Reality 1, Last Time

She was lying on the carpet coloring a picture with crayons, and when Ro looked over she saw the first alternate Zee, the small child with his feet in the air and blanket over his back. His tongue was stuck out in his immense concentration, crayon working diligently to capture whatever was in his mind. There wasn't anything to help this little guy with.

"Whatcha got, Zee?" she asked, looking over.

He raised his head and beamed. "Dis one is yous, Rows," he said, pointing to a mass of squiggles, which had a blob of yellow at the top.

"Am I really that fat?" she teased. "And who's this?"

"Dat's me!" he said loudly, happily. "Dat's yous and mes and dere's my bwankie and stuff."

She smiled. "And what's this green blob? Your mommy's flower bush?"

Now he frowned and slightly cowered under his blanket. "Dat's a monsters."

"A monster?" Ro sat up a bit and tried to see the scariness. "Why's there a monster in your picture?"

"Yous scaring it away, Rows. See?"

"You mean I'm scarier than a monster?" Ro was sure that was supposed to be a compliment, and she sat up to hug the little guy.

"Yeahs." He buried his face into her shoulder.

"But why did you draw him, huh?" she asked. "He's not here with us right now."

"Uh huh."

Ro frowned a bit and looked around. "Where?"

The little Zee refused to show her.

"I don't see him at all," Ro pronounced after a very long moment. "In fact, I don't think he should be in your picture at all. Here." With him still in her lap, she took his drawing and very carefully ripped out the offending green monster-blob. "There, all better. The picture is much better, isn't it?"

Zee peaked out and then nodded, though Ro noticed his eyes dart to the scrap of paper in her hand.

"You know what, I think we should get rid of this monster, don't you?"

He looked up at her with wide eyes. "Hows?"

"We'll rip him up into itty-bitty pieces!" she whispered conspiringly. "Then he'll go away."

"He will?"

Ro nodded. "Yep. Here, let's rip him together. You take that half, and I'll take this, and we'll pull him apart!" They proceeded to do just that, and she over-exaggeratedly cheered. "That'll show him, huh?"

"… yeah," Zee agreed, nodding.

"Let's make him into even _smaller_ pieces, show him he can't mess with us. Ready, let's go!"

And then there was a flurry of tearing and little pieces of paper, and Ro was laughing at the change in Zee's face, and then helped jump and crush the little pieces of monster.

"No more monster!" Zee cheered.

Ro bent down and hugged him. "No more monster! We rip up monsters, here, don't we?"


	26. Reality 4, Once Again

She was in a bedroom again, and it was dark. Sitting up in bed, she saw the crib in the corner and Ro knew which world this was. Carefully, she slid out of bed and went to look at Zee. Sleeping, all snug in bed, sugar plums probably dancing in his head.

How could she help this one? There was no way she could let those parentals give him to that group. There had to be something. If he was older, Ro knew she could have simply ran away with him, but she couldn't do that to a kid as young as this Zee. There was no way she, in any world or form, could care for such a little guy.

Someone had to do something, though.

And then, there was someone. Bennett. This Bennett was nice, cared about them. Surely he'd do something. She'd call him.

Her, willinglycalling Bennett, for help. Welcome to the Twilight Zone. Cue the funny music.

With one last look at Zee, made sure he was all tucked up, Ro slipped out of the bedroom and down the dim hallway. It took her a few missed turned, but eventually she was downstairs, and then into a kitchen. Daring a risk, she flipped the light on and started going through drawers as silently as she could. Bennett's number was bound to be written down somewhere. I mean, if she was half the trouble she was anywhere else, his number was probably on speed-dial.

With that thought, she quickly went to the vid-phone and checked the numbers. None were there, but there, in the recently called list, there it was. Right there.

She was about to press the redial when she noticed the names above his, the contact of _Brothers' Day_ and whatnot. And then, almost mocking at how it was sitting in the open, on the shelf next to books was a data pad. Ro picked it up and started to scroll, reading as fast as she could, and it made her eyes widen and her temper raise.

Oh, Zee would still be under the Paulnos' care, officially, but this group was going to pay more money than Ro would ever see in her life so he could spend time at their "camp" and "school". And if Ro remembered anything about fostering, unless it was an official adoption, the Paulnos could get some sort of stipend for caring for him. Except they wouldn't be. They'd be double-dipping.

She slapped the datapad off and without a thought dialed Bennett's number, even before she could remember she was essentially calling her enemy. Except here, he wasn't.

However, there was no answer at his line. It was his office line, and Ro was somewhat surprised that Bennett _didn't_ live to work. Now she didn't know what do to. She had to tell him, _now_, because she might never get a chance. She couldn't risk just leaving a message, because he had to see this _now_, before the Paulnos could deny and call her a liar.

Her eyes ran across the room until she remembered herself. Quickly, she punched in the code for the directory on the vid-phone, then asked for a listing of Bennett. It returned a list of over twenty, and Ro struggled to remember Agent Bennett's first name. It only came to her when she remembered his son's name was James Jr., and she shorted the list to James Bennett. The results were narrowed to three, and now Ro was faced with a conundrum. Which Bennett was her Bennett?

In the end, she closed her eyes and randomly picked one. There were only three, and she'd just disconnect if it was the wrong one.

She stood nervous, shifting her feet and twisting the pad in her hands as well as looking over her shoulder, suddenly fearful of being found out, when she was so close. Uncountable rings later Ro was seriously getting worried, and she almost disconnected before a face finally appeared. But when it did, she almost laughed with relief.

It was her Agent Bennett, gruff and angry, angry at her. He looked like he had just gotten out of bed, which was probably the case. "Ms. Rowan! Do you know what time it is?" he snapped at her.

"Umm, no," she admitted, but then she quickly interrupted. "You've got to do something! They're going to give Zee to Brothers' Day!"

"What are you talking out, Ms. Rowan?" he snapped.

She waved the datapad. "It's right here! Those jerks are going to send him away, so they can get a whole lot of money! It's right here!" she said, holding out the pad as her proof.

Bennett was looking at her with sharp eyes. "Ms. Rowan, do you know what you are accusing the Pau—"

"I've got proof, right here. See! They even signed it!" She flipped it on and pressed it against the vid-phone screen. "You can't let them do that to him!"

He was quiet for a moment before he said in a very steely voice, "Ms. Rowan, kindly remove the datapad from the screen."

She did so, looking at him. This was it.

He was looking so like her Agent Bennett, even in the night clothes and frumpled hair. Cross and angry. But Bennett was always fair and did what was right, and he really only was looking out for her well-being, even though he was totally wrong about how dangerous Zee was. "Ms. Rowan," he finally said, his fingers tap-tap-tapping, "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Please stay put."

She deflated with relief and managed a weak smile. "No problem."


	27. Reality 5, of Sorts, Last Time

Again, there was no Zee, but it didn't matter to Ro, because this was for her, and she rushed and gave her parents the hug to end all hugs.

"I love you," she whispered, tears in her eyes.


	28. Reality 4, Last Time

Ro looked around, feeling confused. She was in a hall, bland and ordinary, the overly bright fluroescent lighting such places are fond of. Definitely public.

She was about to stand up when something grabbed her ankle, and she looked down before she tried to kick it away. It was a good thing, because looking up at her was possibly the smartest little kid under a year old.

"Hey, Zee, what are you doing under there?" she asked, bending to be at his level. "Get out from under there."

She extended her arms and scooped up the little devil, who started giggling and chanting her name. Struggling with the squirming mass, she sat back down with him on her lap, though she had to scold him when he tried pulling her hair.

Still curious about what was going on, because Ro felt she had solved this little guy's problem as much as she could, Ro amused both of them with making little noises and then realizing that under her seat was a spilled carry-all stuff with toys. And a book.

Zee greedily reached over it and Ro rolled her eyes as she kept it away from his drooling little mouth. "You are such a geek in whatever form, Zee. A book over the stuffed bunny. What am I going to do with you?"

"Eeeeahn!" he commanded imperiously, batting his hand on the book cover.

"What's the magic word?" she asked even as she opened the book, and then cleared her throat to read the old rhyme. Zee babbled with her, as if he was reading along as well, patted the pictures, and tried to turn the pages when they finished. (He might very well have been reading, because never never tried to turn until they finished.) Ro didn't let him, because he didn't know his own strength and would probably tear the pages. The book seemed old enough that it probably wasn't actually in its best interest to be subjected to this little terror.

They had just finished the last page – and Zee seemed ready for an encore – when someone said, "That was one of my favorite stories, when I was a child."

Her head snapped up, though Zee still remained fixated on the book, and she could only stare in surprise at the older gentleman.

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked politely, and Ro shook her head and watched as this Eli Selig sat next to her. "So this is Zeta?

"Umm … yeah, well, I call him Zee. Say hi to D—" She stopped herself, because she wasn't supposed to know his name, Ro bet.

"Eli Selig. How do you so, Zeta."

Zee had raised his head when he heard his name and grinning at the new stranger, greeting him in his little baby language.

"So … what do you want?" Ro asked, somewhat suspicious.

Dr. Selig smiled at her like a kind old grandfather. "Well, with your permission, I'd like to take Zeta under my care. And you as well."

"What?"

He repeated himself and then asked if he could hold Zee, and Ro watched him bounce the little guy on his knee.

"But you're so old!" Once she realized what was out of her mouth, she gasped and tried to back-pedal. "What I mean is …"

Dr. Selig cut her off with a laugh. "I understand you perfectly, Rosalie, or do you prefer Ro?" She shrugged. "And I'm not so very old. And I would have you to assist me. Agent Bennett spoke very highly of your care for Zeta."

"He did?"

"Yes."

Ro frowned. "And you want me too? I'm not some super-smart kid like Zee."

The doctor looked at her and hid a smile. "I would hardly dare to break up a happy family."

She didn't bother to ask why Selig would want Zee, because she didn't think he was that much different between worlds, and Ro had always thought of him as a nice guy. "And you think you can tolerate me? I'm rude, a bad student, get into fights, and am a slob."

"And I am a quiet recluse. Perhaps we can improve each other." He looked at her. "What do you say, Rosalie?"

There was only one thing to say, because she wasn't going to leave Zee behind. "I guess we can go a trial run?"

Selig smiled and stood, managing to balance Zee against his hip. "Well, then I suppose we should be on our way."

"I guess so." Ro had to marvel at how this Zee had managed to accomplish what her Zee desperately wanted.

She picked up the tote and followed him. Out of one of the offices Bennett appeared. "I don't want to hear any more troubles from you, Ms. Rowan," he said solemnly.

Ro grinned up at him. "I think you need the excitement."

"Hardly."

"Admit it, you'll miss running after me."

And then he smiled that paternal gooshy smile. "That, Ms. Rowan, I shall not. Keep Zeta out of trouble."

"Totally impossible."


	29. Reality 7, Last Time

They were in a café, and Ro sipped her cherry-root beer-cola. Over in the corner she saw Zee playing the games, cheering his actions and mocking his "enemies" defeat. She rolled her eyes and walked over, leaning against the railing to watch. Part of Ro wondered if those in the vid-game even realized how ridiculous they looked.

It wasn't too long before he took off the helmet and shook his hair.

"Lose, Twerp?"

He scoffed at her and preened in a ridiculous pose. "Please. These are all so predictable a baby could do them. New highest score."

She laughed and then hugged him. Zee jumped and pushed her off, rubbing himself as if to get rid of her cooties, and then he really looked at her. "That you, Fake-Ro?" he asked in a quiet, awed voice.

Ro saluted him. "So long, Evil Genius."

She barely saw him wave good-bye back.


	30. Reality 6, Once Again

Ro saw herself looking in a mirror, looking at herself. Although remarkably cleaned up. And she didn't look bad, if she said so herself. Her dress was bluish-silver, formed to her not especially curvious-form, her shoulders and arms bare. There were pretty hair clips and flowers in her hair, her hair slightly waved and tied back. She was even wearing make-up!

"Oooh, he won't be able to take his eyes off you!" Tiffy squealed.

With her voice, Ro noticed her friend, and a bit of wind left her sails. While Ro might look pretty in this get-up, Tiffy was beautiful. Hair and make-up perfect, beautiful dress, adorable shoes.

"Do you think so?" Ro asked, now dubious as she rechecked herself, now seeing only the flaws.

Tiffy laughed and brushed her coiffed hair with a careless hand as she examined herself in the mirror. "Well, you'll do, Rosalie. Oh! That's Charlie!" she squealed when there was a honk from outside, and she ran to the window and waved out.

"See you later, Ro!" she called as she ran out, even in those heels, grabbing her shawl.

Ro went to the window just in time to see them burn air out of the driveway. Almost nervously, she looked at the clock, wondering if Zee was late. Then she laughed. Was Zee ever late?

She checked her hair in the mirror. Part of her felt guilty for stealing this night, but she wouldn't let that stop her. She was probably dead, so she deserved at least this.

With such thoughts to calm herself and her conscience, Ro smiled and fixed her hair and smoothed her dress. Every few moments – she couldn't help herself – she looked at the clock. It wasn't eight yet. So he wasn't late.

The longer she waited, the more nervous Ro felt herself getting. This was a date. With Zee. To the Prom. Any of those alone warranted nerves, but all together they made a mess of butterflies in her stomach.

It was only a minute before eight when Ro heard another hovercar pull down the drive and she ran to the window. There, a blue convertible and Zee! She grinned, her cheeks hurting, and rushed out of the room. She only made it a few feet before her ankle twisted.

"Ow! Ow! Damn!" she hissed, limping and swearing at her shoes.

The door was knocked – part of Ro grinned that _her _date actually knocked like a gentleman, while Tiffy's had honked. Biting back the pain, Ro tried to stagger some more, but she heard the door being opened. And her brother's voice welcoming Zee.

"I'm sure Ro'll be down in just a minute, Zee. Do you want to take a seat?"

"Sure. Thanks, Casey."

At Zee's voice, Ro straightened and again fixed her hair and dress. Then she took several deep breathes. She was going to be calm and cool and collected. She wasn't going to look silly, not for this.

Walking slowly and deliberately, because she didn't want her ankle to give out, and she certainly didn't want to crash down the steps, Ro started down the stairs, hand on the banister. Halfway down, she could see Zee sitting nervously on the couch, feet twisting and knee bobbing. (That was all she could see.)

Taking another deep breath, Ro left the steps and entered the living room. "Hey, Zee," she said with a poise she really didn't possess.

Almost instantly, Zee was on his feet. "Ro! Umm, hi! You look, … nice. You do."

She felt shy now, but probably nowhere near Zee, who was bumbling and shifting his feet. "So do you."

And he did, in his light purple tux and polished shoes and silly tie. He was handsome.

"Here!" he said suddenly and thrust out a box. "I got you this! It's a corsage!"

Ro struggled not to laugh, but her smile didn't stop itself. Daintily, she held out her wrist and then watched as he nervously put it on for her. It was – _FLASH_

Blinding.

She blinked her eyes, trying to remove the spots, and then scowled when she saw her brother standing in the doorframe with a camera.

"It was just so beautiful," he sniffed, mocking. Then he turned firm. "All right, stand together. Closer, pictures for prosperity."

Ro rolled her eyes, semi-cringing with embarrassment. Big brothers. Why had she wanted to know what living him would have been like?

Zee and she stood though Casey's obvious enjoyment at making them squirm before they were finally freed. "I want her home by midnight, Zee!" he called from the door.

"No problem, Casey!" Zee responded, a bit calmer now that _that_ ordeal was over. He escorted her to his car and gallantly opened the door, closed it when she was in, and then ran like a silly endearing fool to get in himself.

"Ready?" Ro grinned, trying to feel brave, though her hands were twisting in her lap.

"Yeah." Zee smiled back as he started the hovercar. However, they hadn't even gone two feet when he slammed on the brakes.

Ro grabbed the dashboard. "What was that for!" she yelled.

"I forgot!" He dug into his jacket pocket, and after a few moments presented her with a box with a bow. It was nice, even if the bow was crushed and lopsided and the ribbon wrapping the box was about five times too many. But Zee was beaming. "Here, I got this for you."

"Oh, thanks," she said, taking it. It was a bit of work to get the ribbon undone, but she opened the box. And then gasped.

"Do you … do you like it?" Zee asked nervously.

Gently, carefully she lifted the gold and silver necklace. "Oh, Zee, it's beautiful. What does it mean?"

He leaned over. "This is the Greek symbol for _Ro_," he said, tracing the silvery insignia, "and this is the symbol for _Zeta_," he finished, following his finger to the intertwined gold figure. "You do like it, don't you?"

Her eyes were tearing. "Yes. Zee, I love it. Help me put it on?"

She gave it to him and twisted in her seat. However, it took him a long time to clasp it, fingers obviously not used to manipulating something like it. Ro managed to her giggles under control, not wanting to make it even more difficult for Zee.

But he did manage. "There!"

Ro turned, hand ghosting the necklace. "Zee, thank you."

Part of him blushed, but he still looked proud. "I'm glad you like it." He turned back to the steering wheel. "Well, we better get going, otherwise we'll be late.

"Yeah," Ro agreed, leaning back and closing her eyes. "We'd better."


	31. Reality 2, Last Time

When she opened her eyes, it was night and she was still in the warehouse, lying in a sleeping bag. _Ahh, this Zee_. There was an odd sort of familiarity with this one, she felt.

Ro pushed herself up and carefully moved towards the opened door, rubbing her fingers against her temple and the wrappings. Ouch. Feel _that _lump.

She stepped out of the building, limping because of her still injured leg, and looked around, curious. And then she grinned. There, sitting next to some shipping crates, head tilted back to look at the stars, was a sleeping and snoring Zee. Quietly she made her way over and curled next to him.

Almost instantly, Zee jumped and moved away, but within a few moments his eyes focused on her smirking face. "Ro? What are you doing up?"

"Sitting next to you, silly," she answered cheekily, leaning back against him. He raised a brow at her flippant answer.

"It's cold out here. You should be inside."

"I'm _fine_, Zee. Don't baby me." Even still, Zee shifted his jacket so that it covered Ro up at least partway. She didn't mind, snuggling into the man and running her fingers over the soft trim and velvet fabric. With her ear to his chest, she could hear the steady beating of his heart and breathing, breathe in his scent. It wasn't motor oil smelling either.

She knew—could feel Zee staring oddly at her, but eventually his gaze shifted back up into the sky. They both sat quietly. Zee had wrapped an arm around her protectively and held her close, and she smiled.

"Zee?"

"Yes, Ro?"

"We take care of each other, right?"

"Umm, yeah, of course, Ro. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

In response, Ro hugged him tightly, breathing deeply one last time.

"Ro, can't breathe!"

She barely had time to ponder the irony of the statement.


	32. Reality 6, Last Time

It was beautiful. That was her first thought, standing at the top of the stairs and looking down at the decorated gymnasium. There were balloons of silver and faint purple, streamers of similar colors, dancing lights. There was sweeping, gentle music, other students dancing.

She felt like Cinderella coming to the ball.

And, turning her head, she smiled at her own Prince Charming. (Did Cinderella's Prince even have a first name? Did any of them? Oh well, it didn't matter. Zee had a name.)

He was smiling at her as well, looking slightly bashful and happy.

"Do you … that is, do you want to dance, Ro?" he asked, slightly nervous. Ro had to marvel at such a strange sight. Zee was adorable and sweet and it made her heart melt, because she had never seen such a face before, and never could see it in such a truthful thing on Zeta's face. Never with such a adoration, anyway, and love.

"I thought you'd never ask," she demurred, smiling.

Together, just like in the fairy tales, they walked down the steps, looking each other in the eyes. And then they were dancing.

And Zee knew _how_ to dance. (And if he did step on her toes – which he did, a few fumbling times – well, at least he wasn't made out of titanium and would break them.)

They twirled and danced and drank punch, just smiling and laughing and like a normal couple. The magic and atmosphere made Ro feel drunk, like she was dancing on air, in a dream.

And part of her probably was.

They didn't win the title of King and Queen – that would have been too much, even Ro could admit that, and it wouldn't have been right if Tiffy didn't win something stupid like that – but it was getting late.

"It's almost midnight, Zee," Ro said quietly. Curfew. The way she felt, the timing was appropriate.

"It is?" He sounded, _was_ disappointed. "Time flies, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Do you think … do we have time for one more dance? Maybe?"

"I think so. And I like this song, anyway."

One more dance, one last one. Ro felt disappointed, because such a night shouldn't be allowed to end. But they started dancing, gentle rocking and looking in each other eyes with smiles and shining eyes.

And, when the song was ending, Zee, still looking shy and bashful, found some reserve of daring, leaned forward, and kissed her and she, with a small sigh, willingly kissed back.

The clock didn't chime midnight, of course, but Ro found herself having to leave.


	33. The Hospital

Ro opened her eyes to a hazy ceiling, blinking and gave an upset moan. Almost instantly a shadow blocked her light. "Ro? Are you awake?"

She squinted. "Zee?"

"Yes, Ro. It's me."

Part of her wince cramped and winced, and she asked, "I'm not dead?"

"No, you are not."

"Are you still a synthoid?"

Zee blinked slowly, as if seriously processing the question, then replied, "Yes, Ro."

"That's nice . . . where am I?" Ro tried to turn her head to look, but it was nice to just lie down and relax.

"At the Paulnovian Hospital. You have been in a coma for two weeks."

"What?" Comprehension jerked and Ro tried to sit up. "Two wee, oww, uhh . . ."

Zee took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her back down. "You must rest Ro. And yes, two weeks."

A zillion theories whistled through her mind, and Ro tried to sort past them and make a coherent sentence. "No, no . . . impossible. I mean, Agent Bennett would have been here the—"

"Agent Bennett most likely believes we are on the opposite side of the country. Dr. Selig gave a talk three days ago in that area."

Ro gaped up at him. "Oh, Zee I'm _so_ sorry," she whispered. "If I had known . . ."

Zee shook his head at her, giving a comforting, holographic smile. "You could not have known, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered."

"But Dr. Selig!"

He nodded his head solemnly, looking away for a moment, then back at her. "There will be other chances. I'm sorry you were shot though, Ro. I'm sorry. I should have protected you better."

She shook a finger at him. "Don't you start that, Zee. I'm not putting up with anymore of it." Ro paused to get her equilibrium back, then grinned. "And you do know you're expressing regret."

"Yes, I know. I will get a doctor."

Ro gave a small chuckle, mistaking the comment but understanding when he made a motion to leave her bedside. "No, Zee, don't go."

He paused, sensing the plea. "A doctor should be made aware you are awake, Ro."

"Yes, I know. But later?"

For a brief moment, indecision passed over Zee's face. His eyes danced between the door and bed, but then he carefully set up sentry next to her side. "Okay."

Ro smiled thankfully at him. "Thanks, Zee." She took his hand that was resting on the rail guard and took it in her hand, resting back. A brief smile came to her lips when she felt Zee give a small comforting squeeze before she felt herself slip back down into a peaceful oblivion.


	34. The Truth

Ro smoothed down her jeans and looked in the mirror, pleased to be out of that hospital gown. Her mind wasn't really on her clothes, though, but on the dream, for that what it had to have been. Just a silly dream. A _vivid_, silly dream, but a dream none-the-less.

"Are you ready, Ro?" Zee asked, knocking from the door.

"Yeah, come in!" she called, sweeping back her hair. Strange she never dreamed she had long hair, always short.

Zee stepped in and stood stoically in the doorway. She could see by the mirror's reflection that he was staring intently, like she was a silly little china doll that was going to shatter. Of course, Ro figured he always looked at her like that, because she was a silly little human girl in a dangerous world.

"So where are we off to?"

"There is a robotics talk in San Panticoa in three days in areas in which Dr. Selig specialized in. I believe we should try for there, in case they have him for a surprise guest speaker."

"Sounds like a robot with a plan," she replied cheerily as she turned. "Let's go."

He looked amused at her enthusiasm, waiting until she was level with him until he started to walk.

They walked through and out the hospital in comfortable silence, or for Zee at least. Ro kept glancing at him through the corner of her eye, biting her lip.

"Is something wrong, Ro?" Zee asked as they walked down the street towards a hover car lot.

"What? Nothing's wrong!"

He turned his head to look at her. "Ro."

She waved her hands. "I'm just remembering some silly dream that I dreamed when I was in a coma." Zee looked at her patiently, sidestepping a pothole in an amusing way. "You were in it."

"I was?" He sounded surprised.

"Yes." She locked her fingers behind her neck. "It was all so weird, didn't make any sense."

"What happened?"

Ro felt her checks heat up, but she spoke calmly. "Oh, the impossible. It was like everything was the same, I was me, but you kept changing. You were some person on the street, a teacher, kids, everything. It was nuts! Everything."

"That would be strange."

She was quiet for a moment, looking at her feet. "You were human in all of them. You weren't a synthoid in any of them."

Zee looked back forward, intent on whatever was in front of them. "It was a dream, Ro."

"Yeah." Dejected, Ro sighed and kicked a rock, shoving her hands into her pockets. Suddenly, she frowned and stopped walking, pulling out her hand slowly. And uncupping her fist, Ro saw the familiar necklace, the intertwining _Ro _and _Zeta _Greek letters in gold and silver.

"But it was a dream," she whispered, touching the smooth metal and fingering the chain.

"Ro?" Zee stopped and turned, noticing that she was no longer at his side.

She didn't look up. "Zee?"

Carefully he made his back towards her, then looked at the jewelry that she was still fingering gently in her hand. "That is a nice necklace, isn't it, Ro?" he asked conversationally. Ro knew he wouldn't know good taste if it hit him on the head, like any typical guy. Just looking at some of his holograms was proof enough of that. But Zee sometimes did have good taste in accessories, sort of like a gay guy.

"Did you give this to me, Zee?" she asked quietly.

He smiled at her, bemused. "Did I?"

Without thought, her hand grabbed his forearm and squeezed painfully, or would have been painfully if Zee could sense pain as humans did. "Did you give me this, Zee?" she said slowly, looking at him.

Zee was startled by her reaction, and looked at her with unblinking eyes that were so very close to his true eyes. "Does it matter, Ro?"

"Zee!"

There was a slow blink, but then Zee said, "The necklace, I th—"

Suddenly Ro waved a hand. "Wait, no, don't tell me!"

He complied, but confusion lingered. "What? Why not? Don't you still want to know?"

"It doesn't really matter, I suppose," Ro said lightly, putting the necklace on, her mind flashing through each of the Zee's she dreamed, or had met. Had it been real? All of it? Were they not dreams?

If they weren't, everywhere she went, there had been a Zee. There had _been_ a Zee, in some way, shape, or form. Everywhere. And there was always her somewhere nearby. What did it mean, if it all wasn't a dream? Were they destined, as cheesy as that sounded?

"Come on, Zee." She smiled and started to walk, fingering the necklace, and it took a few seconds before Zee complied, still staring at her curiously. But Ro's mind was far from that, far from here.

There was always a Zee. Always. Her lips quirked at the thought that she had to get stuck with the only non-human one, but then again, would she really change him? Was the human better than the synthoid? Well, perhaps in some respects . . . but he was still _Zee_. Still Zeta. Still shy, silly, childish, naive, sweet, caring, loyal, and all those other synonyms that described Zee.

He hadn't been evil anywhere.

Perhaps because he couldn't be.

They had made their way to the car lot, for, after a suggestion from Ro, Zee had bought a blue hover car. They were several miles outside of town, still in companionable silence, when Ro turned her head, wind in her hair, and said, "Zee, tell me about the _Matin__Theory_, again."

Zee turned his head slightly, raising a brow at the request, but didn't question, simply saying, "Daniel Matin stated in his theory that there are countless varieties and forms of the universe that exist simultaneously and paradoxically in conjunction within each person, in which one takes different forms or roles in their lives as they are fit to imagine. . . ."

Sighing, Ro leaned back and closed her eyes, moving the charm on the chain between her fingers.

* * *

_Finis_

* * *

**A/N**:

The **Wave/Particle Duality** is a concept in chemistry that explains the behavior of light. All I can remember is that this concept totally confused my dear friend Heather in Chemistry Junior year (2000-2001), which made me, in a serious effort to try and help her understand it, complete with visual aids, came up with "_A Pencil is a Paperweight is a Calculator._" If this confuses you, don't worry. It confuses us too.

_**Matin's**__**Theory**_ is, as far as I know, totally my own twisted conjecture for the purpose of this story. It borders along the idea of parallel dimensions and different versions of you, but that's about it. In simplest terms, the theory states that whenever you image yourself in totally different lives or actions, you are actually channeling that version of you. That version of you is real. You are not making it up or having any shred of imagination; you are connecting with that person (who is you). This explains why you simply cannot see yourself doing some things, because in no reality where you are doing whatever it is.

These realities, though, may only exist for a fraction of a second that you connect with them. They (may only) exist because you allow them to, and once the idea is gone, they cease to function/exist. That does not mean, however, that they never existed. They existed in_point set_, in memory. (Think of it as yesterday and tomorrow can't really exist, because time is always changing to the now. There is the illusion of yesterday and tomorrow, but these actually do not concretely exist.)

When one is experiencing these realities (as Ro did), you cannot deny their existence, for they are obviously existing. It creates painful paradoxes, and once you accept that the reality is real, the process is much more pleasant. Also, you cannot permanently reside in the "created" reality. Everything must return to its ground state.

Hmm . . .

I love Science Fiction. It doesn't have to make sense.

The whole reason I wrote this story was because I wanted to write a Baby Zee story and didn't know how to plausibly pull it off. Yes, I know what you're thinking: "This is plausible?" I'm a sad human being.


End file.
